


The Only One I Need

by writewhaticantsay



Category: One Direction (Band), niall horan - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, For music lovers, Friends to Lovers, Harry Styles is like a Fairy Godmother, Insecurity, Inspired by Music, Possible smut later, Recovering from a broken heart, Slow Burn, Swearing, will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29191782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewhaticantsay/pseuds/writewhaticantsay
Summary: “I don’t think luck had anything to do with it,” he said with a chuckle and tugged her coat sleeve, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her in a hug that surprised them both a bit. “Us music nuts always seem to find each other,” he whispered into her hair, which smelled like rain.  “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again soon.”A series of chance encounters bring Davina and Niall together. What starts as a deep friendship slowly turns into something more, but will they be able to get past the ghosts of their past and be what the other person needs?Chapter titles will be taken from various song lyrics and credited at the end of each chapter.Fic title is from "Put A Little Love on Me" by Niall Horan.
Relationships: Niall Horan/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	1. Them Butterflies

“Fuck this!” Niall grumbled, pushing himself up off the couch. Grabbing his keys, a black bomber jacket, and his favourite black NY Yankees hat, he headed out the door of his flat. 

It had been pouring rain for 4 days and, while London was no stranger to rain, this had been unusually torrential in nature. Up until now, the Irish musician had contented himself with staying inside and enjoying being at home - something which had always been a luxury. He’d just come off of an 18 month long tour and the down time had been a welcome reset. But he couldn’t stare at the walls of his apartment any longer. He needed out. 

Niall exited the elevator and nodded to Tony, the concierge, as he headed for the parking garage. 

Despite his Ferrari tempting him from a few stalls away, he opted to take his Mercedes instead. Today he wanted to try and fly under the radar and be able to enjoy being out, even though he had no destination in mind. For a while, his Mercedes made slow loops around South London before Niall realized that he knew exactly where he wanted to be. 

Parking on a small side street, Niall stepped out of his car and into the rain. He pulled his hat down low and jogged through the downpour towards a row of unassuming shops. A small neon sign in the window of a red brick building flashed “For the Record,” and Niall yanked the door open and ducked inside.

“Well, well... look who the cat dragged in!” bellowed Joe, as he came around the counter to give Niall a hug. 

“Good to see you, mate!” Niall laughed, slapping Joe on the back. Niall had to reach up on his tippy toes to embrace the larger than life 6’4” Black shopkeeper. “Place looks good!” he added, looking around at his favourite music shop in London. 

He’d stumbled in one day years ago and had immediately fallen in love with it. The main floor was a small labyrinth of shelves containing records from every genre of music and artist you could think of. Niall’s own vinyl collection had doubled in size since he’d started coming here. His favourite part of the shop, however, was the inset second floor. Truthfully it was only half a level above the first, but a short flight of steps opened up into a musician’s heaven. The walls were lined with guitars, including some types that were hard to find. The rest of the space was covered with drum kits, keyboards, and every other type of instrument a musician could want. Whenever Niall had a chance, he’d come here when the store was quiet or just before closing time and play around in that back room. He could go to a studio - sure, but there was pressure in a studio to create something. Here, he could just play. 

“Got some new Lowden’s in the back,” Joe said, following his eye. 

“Busy day?” Niall asked, looking around to see if they were alone and whether he would potentially be interrupted by anyone who may recognize him. 

“Not with this pissin’ rain,” Joe spat, motioning to the October downpour outside. 

Niall felt bad for Joe’s slow day, but was grateful that he would likely have the place to himself before it closed in an hour. “Well, you know where to find me. I’ll be out by 5. If I lose track of time, come kick my ass out, eh?” he said with a smirk, already making a beeline for the instrument area. 

“Take your time!” Joe called after him with a chuckle.

Bounding up the small set of stairs to the upper level, Niall inhaled deeply as he took off his rain soaked jacket. The smell of wood and rosin, intermingled with musty music books filled his nose. He’d heard people compare the smell of bookshops to heaven, but this was his personal heaven - without a doubt. 

Footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors, he inspected the guitars on the wall. There was a gorgeous Gibson that caught his eye and he reverently reached up to stroke its body. A deep walnut coloured acoustic guitar beckoned him a little further down. It’s dark wood was marbled with lighter veining that reflected the light beautifully. The sight of her alone made him grin.

“Joe, I’m falling in love back here!” he yelled towards the direction of the counter.

“At least take her on a date first!” Joe hollered back with a chuckle. 

Needing no further invitation, Niall plucked the walnut guitar off the wall and walked over to a stool in the corner. He flipped his hat around and out of his eyes. With practiced fingers, he gave the guitar a gentle strum and she sang back to him, her tone making him grunt in appreciation. After some minor adjustments in tuning, he began to pluck away at some classic and familiar songs to him- some Fleetwood Mac, followed up by some Eagles.

He stopped abruptly when he heard the door chime and boots stomping on the mat. 

“Well hello, love! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me!” 

Niall could hear the smile in Joe’s voice and found himself looking up at the security mirror to try and catch a glimpse of the source of the burly man’s joy.

At first, all he could make out was a figure in a navy blue trench coat, hood pulled over their head. A bright laugh echoed across the shop, as a hand came up and pushed back the dripping hood, revealing a pretty girl with a bright smile and dark hair. 

“I could never!” she said, in mock horror. “Work has just been so busy for me. Today’s the first day I have had a chance to breathe.” Her accent wasn’t English. American maybe? Canadian?

“And you came here? In this weather?” Joe asked, leaning against the counter and putting his head in his hands.

“I needed out of my flat.” she sighed. Niall smiled, he knew the feeling. “Besides, I missed you,” she added. Joe beamed. “And these,” she said, turning her attention to the shelves of vinyl before her. 

She immediately started flipping through the stacks of LPs. Niall looked down at the guitar in his hands and eyed the back exit. Joe had given him permission to use it in the event that he was ever cornered by fans and needed to make a quick escape. This girl may not know who he was though, or care, and she seemed more interested in the LPs than the instruments. Chances are she would leave him be. He was turning his attention back to the acoustic beauty in his lap when the beginnings of “Runaway” by Janet Jackson came over the store speakers. 

The girl laughed and Niall looked up at the mirror again to see her shake her head at Joe. “We’re playing this game again today, are we?”

“Humor me,” he smirked. 

She sighed and said quickly, “Runaway, Janet Jackson. Too easy.”

Joe smiled and turned his attention back to his computer, where he was controlling the tunes from. 70’s era piano and guitar flooded across the speakers and he looked at her expectantly. 

He only had to wait two bars before she yelled out, “Fool in the Rain - Led Zeppelin!” Then, she shot him a cheeky grin before adding, “Appropriate.”

Joe chuckled and switched songs again. Electric guitar filled the small shop. It was only a few notes in before the girl, without looking up from the records she was going through, smiled and called out, “Bleed It Out. Linkin Park - soundtrack to my angsty childhood. You’re gonna have to do better, Joe!”

Joe laughed and kept switching between songs, but she got every single one within a few notes. 

Niall had to admit that he was impressed. She could name everything from rock to motown to hip hop. There were a few songs that she didn’t know the name of, but she recognized the artist’s voice quite quickly. There were even a few that she got before Niall.

Joe shot Niall a look through the mirror and then played a One Direction song, Steal My Girl. The piano opening wasn’t over before she shouted out, “Joe, are you seriously testing my boy band knowledge? One Direction - Steal My Girl. Too easy.” 

She was closer to Niall now, although he was up and out of her immediate eye line, half hidden by a rack of music books. He still had to bite his lip to stop from laughing though. 

He could see some of the records she had stacked in her arms now. An Elvis Presley record and what looked like a Phil Collins one beneath it. _“Good choices”_ he thought to himself. 

“Steal My Girl” stopped playing and the tune changed to a soft guitar opening. Niall’s fingers instinctively twitched, playing the chords in the air as his own song, “Flicker,” drifted over the speakers. 

The girl sighed and looked up at Joe with a broad smile, “Love of my life, Niall Horan, and my favourite song, Flicker. You know better, Joe. No test there.” 

Niall smirked. So, she _was_ a fan. He adored his fans and liked interacting with them as much as possible. On days like to today, he wasn’t usually in the mood for the screaming and crying that so often happened, but this girl seemed different. Something about her energy and her clear love for music drew Niall to her. Quietly, he put down the guitar he was holding and tip-toed across the creaky hardwood to get a better look at her. 

She had long, dark hair that reached past her shoulders. It curled a little in the humidity. As if feeling him watching her she ran her hand through it, pulling it away from her face as she absent-mindedly mouthed along with the words to his song, eyes still scanning the stacks of vinyl. She looked about his age, maybe older, and had a fair, round face. Her light eyes sparkled as she looked up at Joe and teased, “Since you’ve so kindly reminded me, do you have the Flicker LP yet?”

Joe sighed and shook his head, “Backordered for months, love. I promise, I’ll keep one aside for you as soon as they come in.”

She flashed him a grin, “Thanks. There will be cookies in it for you, if you do!” 

Niall couldn’t help himself from interjecting, and he was done staring at this girl like a creeper. He started down the stairs, saying, “I happen to like cookies, and I think I could get that record for you quicker.”

The girl jumped and spun to face him. Eyes wide, she took Niall in. He gave her his best smile and a small wave. She flicked her eyes over to Joe, who was clearly enjoying this, and then back to Niall, before hugging the records she was holding to her chest and bending over, her body collapsing in on itself like a dying star. 

Unsure if she was freaking out or simply taking a moment to regroup, Niall stepped forward, “I didn’t mean to frighten’ ya. You alright?”

She looked up at him, cheeks flushed but smiling. “Absolutely. Just dying of embarrassment and shock.” 

Niall chuckled, “You’ve got nothin’ to be embarrassed about. You know your music!” He hoped that she could hear his genuine admiration.

“Most talented musical customer I’ve ever had,” Joe added. 

She rolled her eyes and shot Joe a look to rival one Niall’s mother would often give him. 

“Name that tune is not a musical talent! And _you_ , sir, are a traitor.”

Joe shrugged and smirked back, too pleased with himself to be put off by her glare. 

Turning her attention back to Niall, the girl softened, a gentle flush creeping back into her fair complexion. 

“Hi,” she said, extending her hand, “I’m Davina. It is a real pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure is mine, Davina.” Niall gently took her hand. He was enjoying how she was treating him like a real person. Usually when he surprised fans they screamed or threw themselves at him, but not this one.

“Whatcha got there?” he asked, motioning to the records in her hands. 

She looked down and, seemingly happy to be on familiar ground, peeled them away from her chest. 

He’d been right: an Elvis album, Phil Collins’ Face Value, and John Mayer’s Continuum- the last of which he hadn’t seen her pick up. 

“Those are good choices, them,” he said, wondering if he had those in his own collection. He’d lost track and bought duplicates before. 

She grinned, pleased to have his approval.

“What are you doing here, of all places?” she asked, slightly bewildered. 

Joe started to mutter a protest, so she quickly added, “Not that Joe’s shop isn’t the jewel of London and meant to be enjoyed by all.” Joe raised an eyebrow at her sarcasm but said nothing.

Niall huffed a laugh and said, “I love this place. Joe lets me come and play around in the back.” His gaze drifted towards the upper floor and he thought of the walnut guitar there waiting for him. “Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her after him, “Let me show ya!” 

Davina shot one last look back at Joe as Niall pulled her up the stairs. Joe simply chuckled and made a shooing motion with his hands. 

Niall strode to the back wall again and pulled down the Gibson he’d been looking at earlier, before returning to where he’d left the acoustic guitar by his stool. Davina followed him, bewildered but curious. 

Niall settled the Gibson into his lap and gave Davina a wink before strumming out the opening notes of John Mayer’s Gravity. Dimples sprang into her cheeks and she immediately plopped herself down on the floor a few feet away from him. He sang out the first few lines: “Gravity is working against me. And Gravity wants to bring me down...” He finished out the first verse before swapping guitars and bringing the acoustic back to his lap. He looked back at Davina, who had hugged her knees up to her body - sitting like a school child does when the teacher is reading them a story. With a small nod he simply said, “By popular request,” before plucking out the first few notes of Flicker. 

The look on her face was a priceless mixture of joy and contentment. She swayed gently as he sang, occasionally closing her eyes in the chorus. When he finished, her eyes fluttered open and he couldn’t help but notice that they seemed a little misty. 

He stood and held out his hand to help pull her to her feet. “You alright, petal?” he asked her for the second time that day.

She bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah, I just never thought I would get to hear that song live, nevermind like that. Thank you,” she sighed, briefly squeezing his hand and holding his gaze. 

Her eyes were deep pools of green and blue with flecks of gold near the pupil. There was a depth there that he was drawn to- an earnestness that he hadn’t seen in awhile. He returned her gaze for a moment too long before realizing he was staring. 

“You’re welcome,” he whispered.

Catching the time on the clock, Niall realized it was already 20 minutes after the shop’s closing time. 

“We should let Joe get home.” He bent down to retrieve the Gibson and returned both guitars to their homes on the wall. 

When he turned around, Davina was already down the stairs and at the counter with her records. 

“Joe!” Niall shouting, scooting down the stairs two at a time. “Put those on my tab.”

Davina turned around and started vehemently shaking her head, “No, Niall. You’ve already been so kind. I can’t let you -” 

But Niall cut her off, “Yes, you can, and you will.” He nodded at Joe who smiled and put the records in a bag before handing them to Davina. He pretended not to see the debit card she was waving at him before turning around and walking into the back room behind the counter.

‘Have a good night, you two. See you around!” he called back to them. 

Niall pushed open the shop door and held it for her. The rain had temporarily ceased its assault, although the damp chill clung to them immediately, causing them both to pull up the collars on their coats. 

“Thank you...again,” Davina said shyly. 

“It was nothing. I’m glad we crossed paths today,” and he meant it. 

“Do you live close to here?” He looked around as if he expected a beacon to point the way to her house.

“I have a flat about 8 blocks that way,” she said, pointing east. “I’ll be fine,” answering his next question before he could ask it. 

“Ya sure?” he asked anyways, cocking his head to the side and studying her expression for any sign of a lie. He was reluctant to leave her, although he wasn’t sure why. 

“I’m sure. This has been great, Niall,” she said, rocking back on her heels awkwardly. It seemed like she didn’t want to walk away yet either. She looked down, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and added, “I probably won’t be lucky enough to run into you twice, but maybe I’ll see you around Joe’s again sometime.” 

“I don’t think luck had anything to do with it,” he said with a chuckle and tugged her coat sleeve, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her in a hug that surprised them both a bit. “Us music nuts always seem to find each other,” he whispered into her hair, which smelled like rain and coconuts. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again soon.”

She pulled away from him and smiled. “Until next time then.” Then, with a slow turn, Davina began to walk away. He watched her go for a few steps, hands jammed in his pockets to shield them from the cold, before turning and walking in the direction where he’d left his car. He’d only made it two steps before a thought occurred to him. Not letting himself question it he quickly turned back and called out to her. 

“Davina!”

She stopped and turned, looking at him expectantly. 

Niall jogged back towards her, his breath making small clouds in the chilly air. 

“I meant what I said before. I can get you that Flicker record. I have a few of them at my flat, if you want.” 

Those dimples appeared again. “Niall, I’d love one, but I couldn’t…”

“That is if you’re not busy,” he interrupted her, suddenly afraid that he was being too forceful or presumptuous. 

She froze for a second and waves of confusion, followed by surprise, rolled across her face. 

“You mean...now? Like, me? Come to your flat?” she asked haltingly, disbelief written across her face. 

“That was the idea,” he admitted sheepishly. “But, if you’re busy, I can always drop it off with Joe next time I see him. I just thought that -”

“I’m not busy,” she interrupted gently, flashing him a smile that he met with his own. 

“Great! Then what are we freezing our balls off out here for?” he laughed.

Niall led her back to his Mercedes and held the door open for her as she climbed in. Once they were both in and settled, he pulled into traffic and began guiding his car back home. 

He opened his mouth to ask her a question, but when he looked over he realized that she was quietly laughing to herself. 

“What?” he asked, wondering what he’d done now.

She looked at him and giggled, more loudly this time, before mockingly saying, “If you’re not busy…” in a piss poor impression of his Irish accent. He looked at her dubiously, so she explained, “Who would spend the best hour of their life with their favourite artist, and when he invites you back to _his_ place to give you the record you’ve wanted for years, say “Nah, I have this thing later. Thanks anyways, though!” She laughed again and shook her head. 

Now it was his turn to laugh. This one had some sass to her, and he liked that. 

“Well, how do you know I’m not a serial killer?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. 

She didn’t hesitate, “You don’t seem the type.” 

“Oh, an expert on serial killers, are we?” 

“No, I just listen to a lot of true crime podcasts. Plus, I took a forensic psychology course in university for fun. You don’t fit the profile.” 

She shifted in her seat so that she could look at him better.

“Besides, you can’t take the trash out without being papped. There’s no way you could sneak around killing people all over the world and not get caught.”

He huffed a laugh. “You got a point there.” And, she did. The paparazzi frenzy had certainly died down since One Direction had gone on their hiatus, but there was still the occasional pap photo that seemed to pop up- always catching him in the weirdest places, doing the most mundane things. 

“How do you know _I’m_ not a serial killer?” she asked, mimicking his raised eyebrow. 

“Don’t seem the type,” he echoed back. “But if you are, I’m willing to take my chances,” he added, looking away from the road to give her a wink that made her blush slightly. He hadn’t intended to make her do that, but she was so fair and flushed so easily that he knew he was going to enjoy seeing how else he could tease her. 

They rode a few blocks in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. It wasn’t until he turned down the street that led to his flat that he quietly said, “Best hour of your life, eh? And the love of your life too? That’s a pretty good day for you then.” 

He looked over at her, knowing that his teasing would hit its mark. 

Davina brought one hand over her face, but her ears went beet red - betraying her embarrassment before she said anything. 

“Fuck!” she whispered, before forcing herself to look at him over the top of her fingers. “I was really hoping that you hadn’t heard that. I didn’t mean it! I mean, I’m not a stalker or anything, I just -” 

Niall interrupted her with a loud laugh and then put his hand over top of her arm, pulling her hand away from her face and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t worry, petal. I was just teasin’ ya.” He guided his Mercedes into his building’s parking garage. “Besides,” he added, “I’ve been called a lot worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has been rolling around in my head for long enough, so I thought that it was time that I attempt to write it out. Comments and feedback are always welcome.  
> Cheers!
> 
> Chapter title is from "This Town" by Niall.


	2. "Skies are blue, haven't been for a while"

Niall’s apartment was larger than any flat she’d ever seen in London. The walls were painted moody blues and greys, and the decor was minimalist but comfortable. Davina liked it immediately. 

Niall took her things and placed them beside his own in the closet. 

“Come on in then,” he said, leading her into a large sitting room with a giant L-shaped couch at its center. Her eye was immediately drawn to the large Eagles photo on the wall. She realized that she’d seen him do Instagram posts from this space. It was at once familiar and also entirely different than she’d expected. The room was tidy, spotless even, but there were more signs of him here than what you could glimpse online. Golf magazines were piled neatly under the coffee table. A couple of Guinness cans sat atop the piano. A blue sweatshirt hung neatly over the back of the couch. 

“Can I get you something to drink? Tea maybe?” Niall offered, heading towards the large kitchen. “I have something stronger, if you’d like, but I’m frozen - don’t know ‘bout you.”

“Tea sounds perfect!” she called after him. Quietly, she walked over to the piano. She could see papers stacked on top of it with notes scrawled in pencil. New songs, perhaps? Davina was dying of curiosity, but didn’t want to invade his privacy, especially after he had been so gracious and invited her into his home. She forced herself to walk away and found him in the kitchen, pulling down two mugs and placing tea bags inside them. The kettle was already rumbling to a boil.

“Yorkshire alright? It’s all I’ve got, I’m afraid.” 

“It’s perfect.” she assured him as she leaned back against the counter, unsure of what to do with herself. She wanted to help but was confident he could handle tea on his own. She leaned back on her hands, hoping to cease their fidgeting. 

After double checking that everything was set out, he mirrored her stance, leaning against the counter opposite her. 

“Have you been in London long?” he asked, “I assume by the accent that you’re not from here.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m Canadian. I’ve only been here a few months. I’m just here on a short term contract for an educational firm. When it wraps up, I’ll head home.”

“I love Canada...and Canadians,” he added with a cheeky grin. There was a genuine enthusiasm in his voice, however. “Some of my best mates are from Canada, and the people there seem to be more laid back. Where is ‘home’, specifically?”

“Not Toronto,” she answered with a smirk, “or Vancouver - which are the only two Canadian cities that most people seem to know.”

“So, Montreal then?” he said quickly, knowing that his feigned ignorance of ¾ of her country would rile her like it did his other Canadian mates. 

She laughed at his cheek and shook her head. “No, opposite end of the country. Edmonton - land of cowboys, oil and gas overlords, close-ish to the Rocky Mountains, and not much else.” 

“I think that we toured through Edmonton once. Can’t say I remember it well though.”

Davina shrugged, “Maybe. Not many big acts tour through Alberta - unless it is country music. I’ve had to fly out to see some of my favourite performers. It’s always worth it though.”

He smirked, “Can’t be as bad as Mullingar. I know what you mean though. I used to curse every New Yorker and Londoner anytime a good band announced their tour roster - seemed like those dolts could see any concert they wanted.”

The kettle boiled and Niall carefully poured water into the cups and, with a nod of approval from Davina, threw in a splash of milk too. 

He handed her the mug and she wrapped her hands around it. Its warmth and familiar scent seemed to chase away the last of the nerves she felt being there, with him. 

“I think that I’m meant to be English though,” she said, blowing on her tea before taking a tentative sip. “I love tea, don’t mind the rain, and I love the history here. Canada seems boring by comparison.”

Niall murmured agreement while taking his own sip before asking, “You said you were here on an education contract. Are you a teacher, then?”

She gently shook her head, continuing to blow on her tea. “I’m a teacher by training, but I haven’t been in the classroom for a few years. I create resources for educational companies or international organizations. I’m here working with a board that has schools around the world. I’m helping them create a global literature curriculum.”

She expected him to lose interest as she talked, or to busy himself with something so that he was only half listening. That’s usually what happened. Her job was not that interesting, especially in comparison to his. However, his eyes never left her face as she spoke. She had his full attention, and it was a bit disarming. 

“Literature? Well versed in music _and_ books. You’re a rare bird, then.” 

She chuckled and seemed to consider this before shaking her head. “I don’t think so. That’s pretty standard for any introvert. Music and books are just different ways of telling stories. I write too - nothing publishable though.”

“I doubt that,” he said gently but firmly. 

Davina rarely told anyone that she wrote on the side because most people either laughed or discredited it as soon as she said she wasn’t published. She wondered how a person who had only met her a couple of hours ago could have more faith in her than most people she’d met in her life. She didn’t know what to say in response, so she just smiled and took another sip of tea. 

“Want to go dig up that Flicker album then?” he asked, motioning with his head towards the back of the flat, where she presumed his record collection was. 

“I mean, if you insist,” she said with a mock roll of her eyes. 

Tea in hand, he led her to another room and switched on the light. It was more of a semi-enclosed entertaining space. There was another small couch, a pair of comfortable looking chairs, and a wall of floor to ceiling cabinetry. He opened a few of the cabinet doors, revealing pull out shelves full of meticulously organized records. There must have been hundreds of them.

“Holy shi-” Davina began, before catching herself. Niall chuckled, clearly enjoying the awe on her face. He kept opening doors until everything was exposed, including a beautiful record player. 

She stood there for a moment before her face broke into a grin so wide that her dimples seemed barely able to contain it. 

“When I was a little girl, I remember watching “Beauty and the Beast” and being so jealous when the Beast took Belle to his library. I’ve been in some amazing libraries and bookstores but I think that this is my Belle moment - right here,” she said, almost reverently. 

“So, you’re saying I’m the Beast, then?” Niall knew he shouldn’t tease and ruin the moment for her, but he couldn’t help himself.

She tore her gaze from the records and smirked at him. “The Beast was just a prince in disguise.” 

Now it was his turn to blush, although he wasn’t sure why. He waved his hand at the wall of music and said, “Well, princess, look through whatever you want. I have old merch in another room and I’ll go check there for that Flicker album.”

Davina looked confused. “If you know it isn’t here, then why did you show me this?”

“Because I knew you’d like them, and they don’t get enough love from me. Go on, pull out and play whatever you’d like. I’ll be right back.”

He was almost down the hall when she called after him, “Belle wasn’t a princess.”

Without missing a beat he shot back, “She was by the end of the movie!”

Niall returned 10 minutes later with his Flicker LP in hand. He found her sitting on the floor, a collection of records around her - many of them his absolute favourites. She didn’t notice his return and he stood there for a moment, watching her look lovingly at the inserts or gently stroking the cover art. 

“Find anything good?” he finally brought himself to ask. 

She jumped but there was a grin solidly plastered to her face when she looked at him. “So many! I could spend hours here. I remember so many of these from when I was a kid. Seeing them again is a bit of a trip.” 

“Did your parents have a lot of music in the house then?” Niall set the Flicker record on the same shelf where he’d left his tea and joined her on the floor, a river of vinyl separating them. 

Davina nodded. “My dad was a drummer in a band when he was in high school. When I was little he had a kit in our basement and I remember sitting on the top of the stairs and hearing him drum along to so many 70s and 80s rock band records. That drum solo in “In The Air Tonight” by Phil Collins was my favourite. I used to love waiting for it.”

Niall smiled, remembering the Phil Collins record she had gotten from Joe’s. 

“Does he still play?” he asked. 

A shadow, so quick that he almost missed it, passed over her face. She shook her head, “No. We moved when I was 5 and he sold his drums and never played again. He died of cancer when I was 9.” 

Regret stabbed at Niall’s heart, “I’m so sorry,” he said gently. 

“It’s ok,” she assured him. “It happened when I was so young that I can’t imagine who I would be today if I hadn’t gone through it.” She paused. She usually didn’t tell people that because it sounded like she was grateful he had died. She wasn’t - at all. It’s just that his death had so fundamentally shaped the trajectory of her life and who she was - she couldn’t imagine who she would be without having gone through that trauma. 

Niall seemed to understand this. He nodded and waited for her to continue with whatever she was willing to tell him. She looked down at the records around her, remembering for the first time in a long time the sound of those drums reverberating through the floor. 

“I still miss him though, all the time. He was a really good musician, or at least he seemed that way when I was 5.” She gave a small laugh. 

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree then, does it?” Niall said quietly. “What about your Mum? Was she in the band too?”

Davina threw her head back and laughed, “No. She was more of a groupie. She dated most of the band members before settling on my dad. She was a singer though. I remember her having a great voice when I was young but she’s lost it a bit as she’s gotten older. They both shared a love of music though. There was rarely a time that some type of music wasn’t playing in our house- everything from jazz, to Top 40, to classical, to country. She’s still like that.”

“Ahh,” Niall said, “So there were two trees then. It all makes sense now.”

Davina just nodded thoughtfully and took a swig of her tea. It was getting cold but it was still comforting. She didn’t usually talk to other people about her family like this. There was something about Niall that made her open up and she wasn’t used to that feeling. 

“Do you have siblings?” he asked, scooting along the floor until he could lean his back against a chair and look at her more comfortably. 

Again, she nodded. “One brother. We aren’t extremely close, but we check in with each other enough and make sure our mom is looked after now that we’re both out of the house and she’s on her own. My family is a bit fractured, I guess. No family is perfect though.”

Davina looked down again at the records around her. Niall could glimpse the darkness and wounds through the cracks that she’d let him see through. He found himself hoping to learn more about her story. He suddenly wanted to be her safe place - be the person she could tell it all to. But he could also see her walls going back up, not so much to keep him out but to keep her past at bay. So, he changed the subject. 

“Is there one you want to listen to?” he asked, motioning to the collection of vinyl around them. 

She smiled and bit her lip, surveying her treasures before asking, “Is there one you like best? What’s your favourite?”

Niall inspected what she had pulled out and smiled. Gesturing that she should move to sit in the chair behind her he said, “Close your eyes.” 

Davina gingerly stood from the floor, shaking numb tingles out of her legs from sitting for too long, and curled up in the chair. Niall waited for her to get comfy and do as he asked before picking a well worn record off the floor and placing it on the player. In a practiced motion, he moved the needle to a familiar spot and then turned to watch Davina’s reaction. Just as in the record shop earlier, it only took a few moments before a smile of recognition flashed across her face. Her eyes popped open and she looked at him with joy, “Iris - the Goo Goo Dolls!” 

“I have always loved this one,” Niall said, playing some of the instruments in the air as they listened. 

“Now that you say that, I can hear it. Your songs are your own, but this style is definitely in there.”

This made Niall grin. “That’s a compliment and a half. Thank you.” Then, he had an idea. He paused the record and ran back to his sitting room. He returned within seconds, acoustic guitar in his hand. He started the record again, only this time he played along, even joining in on the chorus. His raspy voice perfectly fit the song.

Davina just leaned back in the chair and smiled. None of this felt real, but she also couldn’t remember the last time she felt this relaxed and happy. How could she feel so comfortable with someone she had just met?

As the dreary day shifted into night, they continued to sit there - passing records back and forth, sharing memories that different songs brought up. Occasionally Niall would play along with his guitar, but mostly they just listened and enjoyed. Eventually, their grumbly stomachs demanded more than tea so he ordered pizza. 

“I haven’t done this since I was in university,” Davina said, finishing off her slice of pizza and leaning back in her chair as Coldplay quietly drifted from the record player. “We used to spend hours in each other’s dorm rooms, listening to music, eating pizza and talking.”

Niall stood up as the song finished and swapped records. 

“That’s one of those life experiences that I wish I’d gotten to do,” he said. “ Don’t get me wrong, I had the time of my life with the lads. I regret none of it and I don’t take it for granted. But, sometimes, I can’t help but feel like I missed out on the normal bits.”

Davina thought for a moment. “I think normal is relative. I had a great time in university but not everyone does. Those nights with my friends were also alongside the all nighters of studying for exams in classes you hated, useless drama and fights, and working your butt off just to get a piece of paper after 4 years.”

Niall grinned, “When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound that different than being in the band in some ways.” Then he turned his attention back to the record he’d just put on the player. “This is another one of my favourites that not many people seem to know. Curious if you recognize it.”

“Heartbeats” by Jose Gonzalez softly filled the room. Niall closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the opening melody. He hadn’t listened to this one for awhile. When he opened them again to look at Davina his brow immediately knit together in concern. Her smile was gone and she seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. 

“You alright?” he asked, turning down the volume and coming to sit closer to her. 

She looked up at him and smiled, but the smile was strained and didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, I know this one actually - really well. Used to be one of my favourites too.”

“Used to?” Niall prodded, even though he probably already knew why. There was only one thing that could turn a favourite song into one that made you this uncomfortable. 

“I played it at my wedding, actually,” she said tentatively.

Niall couldn’t help it; his eyes flicked down to her ring finger and found it empty.

“Mark, my ex,” she clarified, following his eye line to her left hand, “played it for me a lot when we were dating. I haven’t thought of it in awhile, is all”

“What happened?” Niall softly asked before he could stop himself. 

His curiosity didn’t seem to bother her though. Davina looked up to meet his gaze and gave him a small smile. “The mature thing to say is that we just grew apart - which is true. But, it didn’t help that he cheated on me with one of his co-workers.”

Niall exhaled through his nose, letting out some of the anger that instantly boiled up inside him. “Fuckin’ turd,” he muttered, before reaching across to place his hand on hers. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said quickly. “If anything, your music got me through it - so thank you.” 

Niall gave a small nod before looking at her intently, “It’s his loss, love- truly.”

She laughed a little at this, “You haven’t seen his co-worker.”

“I don’t need to,” he said swiftly and firmly, blue eyes boring into hers with such intensity that she couldn’t look away. 

Her instinct was to deflect. To self-deprecate and hide behind humor like a shield, but he wasn’t going to let her, and, without her defences, she didn’t know what to say. So, she just sat there, feeling his hand on hers and looking into his eyes until she believed him. Or, at least believed that he believed it. 

It was him who broke first. With a final squeeze of her hand he stood up and muttered, “Let’s get this shit off then, shall we?” 

They took turns going through more records, until their laughter and glee at discovering new shared favourites lifted the mood of the room again. 

Davina spied an album hiding at the back of a shelf and pulled it out excitedly. 

“This guy is my one big concert regret,” she said wistfully stroking the “Gossip in the Grain” record that she held. “He came through town and I should have gone, but I didn’t, and I still kick myself for it”

“Ray LaMontagne?” Niall asked. “How _did_ you pass that up? Up until this moment I haven’t questioned your musical judgement, but now…” he teased. 

“Shut up,” she said, gently punching his arm. “You’re not helping!”

“I can’t support such poor choices,” he said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “But, let’s relive what you missed, shall we?”

Ignoring her pout, he plucked the record from her hands and placed it on the player. He briefly consulted the track listing before setting the needle down carefully. 

The opening notes of “Let It Be Me” soared through the air and Davina closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, as if breathing the music in. This was her favourite Ray song - of course, Niall would know that. 

Fingers intertwined with hers and brought her back to the moment. Niall stood in front of her, clearly pleased to see how happy she was with his song selection. 

“Come on,” he breathed, gently pulling her by the hand out of the record room - its floor still littered with pizza boxes and vinyl - and out towards the more open sitting room. It was late and the street lamps cast long shadows across the floor - their golden glow the only source of light in the room. 

Niall brought her to the center of it, before turning to face her and wrapping his arm around her waist. She quickly realized that he meant to dance with her - something that she normally despised, but in this moment, with this song, and with him - she couldn’t think of anything better. 

Davina let him pull her to him and placed her hand over his chest, feeling his heart beat steadily through his t-shirt. They swayed gently to the music, and she rested her cheek against his.  
_“If it’s a friend you need, let it be me.”_

The lyrics hummed through her body, and Davina let herself relax into Niall and this moment. 

She’d spent the last year putting up walls and not letting people in. Double guessing everyone’s true intentions and deciding that the only person she could rely on was herself. She’d run halfway across the world for this job, hiding from everything that made her feel unworthy or insecure. She had claimed it was a “circuit breaker” - a short term fresh start to jump start her life again after Mark left. In reality, it had been because she couldn’t bear all of the reminders of their life together and the lies that had slowly woven their way into it. She didn’t trust that she knew what was real anymore. 

But somehow, Niall had broken through all of that in a matter of hours. He’d made her feel seen for the first time in years - no longer the wisp of a person she had felt she’d become, but a real person who was worth knowing. That brought her both comfort and terror. 

Niall’s thumb traced slow circles on her back and he began to hum along with the lyrics, unable to help himself. Davina didn’t mind though, the song seemed to reverberate through her from all directions. Niall softly hummed the final lines into her ear before placing a gentle kiss in the spot where her jaw rose up to meet her ear lobe. 

She inhaled while he exhaled, his breath raising goose bumps down her neck. He slowly pulled back, his lips gently caressing her jaw bone and leaving heat in its wake. His eyes met hers for only a moment before they both closed them and let their lips find each other in the darkness. 

His kiss was tender and soft. It was her who deepened it by running her tongue along his bottom lip. He brought one hand up to cup the side of her face, while the other snaked up her shirt and along her side, pulling her closer to him. 

Unbidden, terror flooded Davina’s brain. 

_“He is so out of your league - what are you doing?_ whispered a voice in her head. _Right now, he’s realizing how soft your tummy is. Remember when Mark commented on how fat you were getting? And that was 10 pounds ago.”_

Davina froze a little and pulled back, but Niall hadn’t sensed the change in her yet and chased her with his lips. His heart was pounding beneath her hand. 

_“This is Niall Horan. He dates supermodels. You’re a fan. You’re making yourself an easy hook-up for a rainy day - literally. Do you really think you’re going to hold his interest for long? They never stay, Davina.”_

She broke from the kiss with a gasp and braced her hands against Niall’s chest. His eyes flew open and looked at her, confused. 

“I...I should go. It’s late.” she stammered, turning away from him and weaving through the darkened room.

He stumbled after her, “Davina, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… what’s wrong? Talk to me.” 

She put on her best smile and turned to face him, “Nothing. I just realized how late it is and I should get home. I’ve taken up enough of your time and you’ve been so kind, “ she paused as she searched the closet for her things, “I just...I should go.” 

Emotion coursed through Niall’s body. He wanted to tell her that this was bullshit and demand that she stop lying and tell him the truth. He wanted to beg for her forgiveness for moving too fast, or whatever he had done to frighten her and make her feel so uncomfortable. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to tell her to come sit and make her another cup of tea, or whatever she needed to go back to how things had been moments ago. 

But then she looked at him, her eyes shimmering deep blue in the dim light, begging him to drop it and let her go. So, he did. 

She pulled on her jacket and boots hurriedly, remembering at the last minute to grab her bag of records from Joe’s. 

“Let me call you a car,” he mumbled, heading to the other room to grab his phone. 

“I just grabbed an Uber,” she called after him, and he came back to find her with her phone in hand already. 

“Thank you for everything,” she said, there was a formality to her tone that hit Niall like a slap. Before he could respond she gave him a quick hug. “I’ll see you around, maybe.”

Then, with one quick movement she opened the door and was gone. 

Niall stood there in shock, the evening replaying in his head on high speed. Suddenly, he bolted to the record room and then back through the front door. He got to the elevator as it was closing and stuck his hand in the door just in time to stop it.

“Davina, take this.” he said, pushing the Flicker record through the gap. The doors slowly opened again and she stood there, eyes welling with tears that she was furiously trying to blink back. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, taking it from him.

“Davina, I’m so sorry. I crossed a line and I -”

“You didn’t, Niall.” she said emphatically, which confused him more. “You did nothing wrong. It’s just...I’m...wrong,” her voice broke. “I need to go home.” 

“Davina,” he breathed, aching to pull her out of the elevator and into his arms - wanting to smooth away the pain etched across her face.

“Goodbye, Niall.”

The elevator doors closed and she was gone. 

***  
Davina climbed into the back seat of her Uber, head bent low and pulling her hair over her face to hide her tears. The car smelled strongly of curry and weed, snapping her out of the thoughts in her head for a moment. 

The driver confirmed her name and address in his strong Yorkshire accent before pulling away from Niall’s building and towards her own. 

Davina leaned back and focused on the passing buildings. Part of her wanted to demand that the driver turn around, but a voice in her head whispered that that would be a mistake. 

Absentmindedly, she played with the album that was in her hands. Her thumb caught the edge of a slip of paper sticking out and she looked down to realize that it was a note. Taking a steadying breath, she pulled it out and read it beneath the passing street lights. By the end, she could barely see through the tears that were welling up and slowly spilling down her cheeks. She traced his words with her finger.

“Dear Princess,  
Thank you for reminding me who the music is for. And for seeing through the disguise.  
-Niall” 

“He’s not worth it, love,” the driver said kindly, meeting her eye in the rearview mirror. 

She tucked the note back into the record and hugged it to her chest. 

“I think he was,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Niall's song, "Mirrors." The vibe and lyrics to that song really fit how I picture Davina here. And, while we don't get to see much of it yet, she's the mirror for Niall too.


	3. My Heart Is Hoping You'll Walk Right In Tonight

“CONGRATULATIONS!!”

Davina quickly pulled the phone away from her ear and winced. Once she was sure Aubrey had gotten out her loudest felicitations she returned it and laughingly said, “Thanks, Bree. Next time, warn me before you blow my eardrums.”

“Sorry!” Bree squealed, “I’m just so happy for you. The world is finally giving you what you deserve! A gorgeous new apartment. A new job. You’re in Calgary now, so Owen, Kev, and I can harass you regularly! Now all you need is a man worthy of you, and you’re all set!”

Davina rolled her eyes, but playfully shot back, “Excuse me? I don’t need a man.” 

“Well, you don’t _need_ a man, but sometimes they have their uses. You know - for like opening jars and stuff.”

Davina laughed, “Oh, I’ll be sure to tell Owen that that’s all he’s good for.” 

“We’ve been married for 5 years, Dee - he knows his place by now, trust me.”

Davina shook her head and chuckled. She was there when Bree and Owen met in university, and had watched their relationship with more than a little envy over the years. Thanks to the paper thin walls of the apartment they shared during their undergrad, she also knew that her best friend appreciated Owen for more of his talents than just his ability to open jars. 

“What are you two lovebirds up to tonight?” Davina asked, hoping to change the subject. 

“Not much. Watch something on Netflix - and by watch, I mean that I’ll probably fall asleep on the couch within the hour. You?”

Davina reached up on her tiptoes to grab a wine glass from the top shelf of a cupboard. It must have been Owen or Kevin who had put them so high up when they had helped her unpack a few days ago. She made a mental note to move them to a more convenient spot later. “Just opening up a bottle of celebratory wine. I think I’ll unpack some boxes and get settled a bit more,” she answered, as she drove the cork screw into a bottle of her favourite red. Noticing the time, she added “Ooh, and Niall is doing an Instragram Live in 10 minutes. I’ll watch that while I unpack my office.” 

As soon as it was out of her mouth Davina regretted saying it, just like she had regretted ever telling Bree about what had happened at Niall’s place in London. As expected, her friend pounced on her admission.

“You still follow him on social media? After what happened? Is it weird? What if he sees you on the live and recognizes you?”

Davina sighed and decided to tackle the flood of questions methodically and logically in order to halt her friend before this became a bigger deal than it was. “Yes, I follow him - as do 20 million other people. What happened was my fault, not his. I’m the one who freaked out - remember? He was a perfect gentleman about it all.” Davina paused for a moment, her insides contracting at the memory of how she’d managed to ruin one of the best days and experiences of her life. 

Hearing her friend inhale in order to continue with more questions, Davina quickly continued her own counterattack. “It isn’t weird because there is no actual interaction with him. I just tune in with at least 2 million other people. I’m still a fan - that’s never changed.” Davina’s eye drifted to the record player in her living room and the stack of records beside it, waiting to be organized. The ‘Flicker’ album was in there somewhere and she suddenly wanted to go read the note tucked inside for the 800th time since he’d given it to her a year ago. 

“And no,” she continued, “he won’t see me watching. Again, there will be millions of people online and the username ‘dconnor” with a profile photo of Flynn- your dog, won’t make him go, “Hey - I wonder if that’s that Davina girl who lost her shit in my apartment last year?”

Davina laughed but Bree didn’t join her. “Don’t beat yourself up for that, Dee. You weren’t in any type of headspace to take on anything romantic - even if it was with Niall Horan,” Bree soothed in a quiet voice. 

“I know,” Davina sighed. “I’m better now. Like you said, all of the changes recently have been good. I can’t change the past - I know that.” Davina gave herself a generous pour of wine and swirled it in the glass, trying to ignore some of the memories swirling through her own mind. 

“I just don’t want you torturing yourself. That’s all,” Bree said gently. 

“I’m not - promise. Now go find something on Netflix to fall asleep to. I have an office to organize because I start a new job next week!” Davina couldn’t help but say the last part in a sing-songy voice as her excitement bled through. 

“Yeah, you do!” Bree cheered. “Night Dee. Love you!”

“Love you too! Sweet dreams.” 

Davina picked up her glass and walked into the spare bedroom that would be her office. Boxes were everywhere, but everything was clearly labelled and even colour coded with post-it notes - which her friends had mercilessly teased her for. 

Davina was grateful for her obsessive organization now though as she scanned the boxes and quickly found the one that she wanted. Opening it she pulled out the phone holder that she used when she needed to use her phone as a webcam for conference calls. She clamped it to her desk, adjusted the arm and clipped her phone into it at an angle where it would be visible but out of the way. 

“Shit!” she swore softly, realizing that it was 8:00 already and Niall’s live would be starting soon. She quickly opened the app and clicked the green circle with Niall’s photo in the middle. The stream immediately opened, his face filling the screen, and Davina found herself holding her breath as his blue eyes looked right into the camera. 

“Hi,” she heard herself whisper, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. He didn’t even know she was there. His hair was darker and a bit longer than it had been a year ago. She could tell by the wall colour and familiar furniture that he was in his London apartment. He was sitting at his piano, talking about some songs he’d been working on and a new album that he hoped to release in about 6 months time. 

Niall picked up a guitar and Davina’s heart constricted a bit when she recognized it as the one he’d played for her that day in Joe’s. He asked his online audience for requests and the chat at the bottom of the screen immediately exploded with people begging for One Direction songs or songs from Flicker. He watched the feed for a moment before beginning to strum out Flicker’s title track. 

Davina closed her eyes and curled herself up in her office chair. The second Niall began to sing she was back in his apartment, curled up in the chair in his record room, listening to him play song after song for her. Maybe Bree had been right and this was a bad idea. Davina couldn’t bring herself to turn it off though. She wasn’t sad, per-se, she just felt the twinge of a bittersweet memory. 

After a couple of songs and some chatter, Davina realized her wine glass was empty. She decided to get a refill, but stood up too quickly and knocked her phone. In slow motion she watched it slip from the holder and towards her desk. She fumbled for it and comedically grabbed and dropped it three times before managing to grasp it firmly in her free hand. With a relieved sigh she put her phone back in the holder, Niall’s face still smiling at his audience, and went to grab her wine bottle from the kitchen. 

“Alright, enough of me talking to myself,” she heard him say as she walked back. “Let’s call some people.”

 _“This should be good,”_ Davina thought to herself. She imagined how many Directioners were online and praying that Niall would accept their request to be part of his live. She’d seen the button come up but had ignored it. Settling back into her office chair she silently made a bet with herself about how the first interaction would go. 

“18 years old. Hysterical cryer. Will say, “omigod,” at least 15 times.” she guessed - while also realizing that that is exactly what she would have done at 18. 

Niall’s face was comically close to the screen as he scrolled through the requests. “Alrighty, let’s try this one.” he said, pressing a button on his end. 

Davina’s screen darkened and a text box appeared over Niall’s waiting face. “You’ve been invited to join Niall Horan’s Instagram Live. Accept?”

Davina stared at her phone. “Shit,” she said through gritted teeth, even as her finger came to hover over the “Accept.”

***  
“I probably did that wrong,” Niall said to his invisible audience as he waited for “Dconnor’ to answer his call. Social media was not his forte, so he wouldn’t have been surprised if he had messed up the call somehow. It would be too bad if he had, though. Firstly, because he had 80 000 people on this Live with him who were witnessing his incompetence - he could already see them teasing him in the chat. Secondly, because ‘Dconnor’s profile picture was of a very cute dog and he always liked talking to people with dogs. 

He was just about to give up and try someone else, or go back to singing songs, when his screen divided in half and he knew that the other person had picked up. Suddenly a face filled the bottom half of his screen and Niall found himself unable to speak. He hadn’t expected to ever see that face again.

Her hair was a bit longer and it looked like she’d curled it. Her make-up was a bit heavier than it had been when he’d met her on that rainy day a year ago too. There was no doubt in his mind it was her though - Davina. That face had haunted him for months.

“Hi there,” he said, unable to keep the shock from his voice. 

“Hi, Niall,” she said softly. He could hear the nerves in her voice, but then she smiled, and her dimples made his heart swell. It was definitely her. 

They must have stared at each other like that for a beat too long, because the chat exploded with questions:  
_  
“What’s going on?”  
“Do they know each other?”  
“Is there a lag?”  
“Is it possible to make Niall Horan speechless?”  
“I mean, she’s pretty enough, but come on Niall.”  
_

She pulled herself together before he did. “How are you doing?” she asked casually, but she bit her lip nervously. 

“Can’t complain,” he answered, trying to match her demeanor. “You good?” He kicked himself as soon as he said it. It was too familiar and casual and his audience in the chat picked up on it. _“Better get ahead of this, for both our sakes.”_ he thought. 

“Sorry, for those of you watching, Davina here and I have met before. About a year ago, wasn’t it?”

Davina smiled again and nodded, seemingly grateful that he both remembered her and was willing to acknowledge their past. 

“She’s got one of the best ears for music I ever heard - even if she does listen to my stuff,” he added, trying to lighten the mood. 

This made Davina chuckle. “I don’t know about that. You should get out more.”

Niall was vaguely aware that people were asking questions in the chat and sending heart emojis, but he ignored them all. He was zoned in on her now, but his brain was scrambling with what to ask and how to keep her talking. Tearing his eyes away from her face he took in the room around her on the tiny screen.

“It looks like you’re surrounded by boxes. Did you move places recently?” he asked.

She looked around her and grinned, “Are you criticizing my design choices? I seem to remember a fairly infamous video of you “chillin’ out” in a box once.” 

He threw his head back and laughed. He had to admit that he hadn’t expected her to say that. The smirk that she gave him as she took a sip of her wine told him that she was proud of herself for that one too.

“Fair play, love. Who am I to criticize such an inspired design choice?”

Now it was her turn to laugh. She deftly moved the topic away from herself and began asking him questions about his upcoming album. He answered them happily, glad that she didn’t seem to want to escape the call. He forgot all about the rest of his audience until his eye caught some of the responses in the chat.

_“There is no way these two haven’t banged.”_

_“Was totally thinking the same thing. What else do we know about this girl?”_

_“What did he say her name was? Davina?”_

_“Google stalking her now. If anyone can get to the bottom of this, our fandom can!”_

_“Shit!"_ Niall thought. The last thing Davina needed was people digging around in her personal life because of him. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t want to. 

“Well, I should go. It’s almost 4 am here and my jet-lag is finally catchin’ up with me.” He made a show of rubbing his hand over his face and looking knackered. 

Davina pressed her lips together and nodded. She seemed more prepared for this moment than he was. 

“It was good to chat, darlin’! Go listen to the new record in a few months!” He inwardly cringed. What the fuck was he saying? He was trying to put distance between them but now he just sounded like an ass. 

Davina’s smile faltered for half a second, so quickly that he wondered if he had imagined it, before she replied “Can’t wait! Thanks for the chat, Niall.” She gave a little wave as she leaned forward and pressed something on her phone. Then, she was gone. Niall’s heart dropped into his stomach and he stared at his own face on the screen for a moment, the chat filling up the space where Davina’s face had been. 

_“That was...awkward.”_

_“How to not hit on a girl, Nialler.”_

_“Aww, our baby got nervous! We still love you!”_

“Bye everyone,” he mumbled, pressing the button to end the live. His screen went black and he found his eye drifting to the spot behind him where he and Davina had danced together, all those months ago. 

“Fuck!” he half shouted into the darkened room. 

Niall had met many people in his life but none had impacted him as quickly as Davina had. He had always tried to be himself with his fans and people he met, but there was always a vague sense that he was a persona or that they had a preconceived notion of him. However, Davina never made him feel that way, and it wasn’t until he met her, and subsequently lost her, that he realized how badly he needed someone in his life that he could talk to that easily. He had never wanted to know someone so badly, and for them to know him. 

“No, I’m not leavin’ it like this again,” he mumbled to himself as he picked up his phone and opened Instagram. A quick search pulled up a private account for “dconnor” with nothing but the dog profile picture visible. He could message her, though. Before he could overthink it he quickly typed: _“Hey, it’s Niall. Sorry for being a twat at the end there. I saw people in the chat getting nosey about who you were and panicked. Didn’t want them to make your life miserable. I really enjoyed talking to you again. Would love to do it again sometime - if you’re comfortable. Ball is totally in your court.”_ He finished it off with his number and pressed send and then stared at the screen for some sign that she’d read it. 

“That’s all you can do, Horan,” he grumbled to himself after several minutes had passed with no response. Maybe she would see it later. Maybe she wanted to end it at that. Maybe she never wanted to speak to his self-promoting arse again. “Go listen to my album?” he whispered incredulously, shaking his head. 

Suddenly his phone lit up in his hand. It was a private name and a number he didn’t know, but he would take his chances. 

“Hello?” he answered tentatively. 

“Hey. It’s me. I mean...Davina." 

He smiled so broadly that his cheeks hurt for a moment. “Well, I wasn’t expecting anyone else to call me at 4 in the mornin’,” he teased, before quickly adding, “Thanks for callin’ though. I am really sorry for what I said. Fuckin’ muppet thing to say. I just -” 

“Niall, it’s fine!” she interjected, laughing. “I totally get it.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief and flopped backwards onto his couch. 

“I appreciate you trying to protect my privacy. I don’t think they’ll find much though if they Google me. Plus, Connor is my maiden name and I only just started using it again. They’ll be pretty disappointed." 

“Well, that’s good to know,” Niall said, relieved. “I admit I was surprised to see you again tonight.” 

She chuckled, “I was surprised too. I mean, I was watching your Live but I didn’t expect to join in. I must have accidentally pressed the “request to join” button when I dropped my phone part way through.” She paused for a second and added, “I’m glad I did though.” 

Niall grinned into the dark. “Me too.” He felt like a school boy. 

Suddenly, he felt a weight on his chest that he needed to lift. If he never spoke to her again, he needed to say it now. 

“Davina, I need to apologize for that night when you were here. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I put you in a shite position and I-” 

“Niall,” she interrupted gently, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just…” she paused, searching for the right words. “My ex-husband had left me 4 months before we met. I was pretty messed up mentally. I panicked because of my own insecurities. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. I am the one who is sorry for running off like that. You were nothing but kind and I treated you like -” 

Now it was Niall’s turn to interrupt, “Davina, it’s ok, love.” He could hear her exhale on the other side of the phone. “Are you doing better now?” he asked gently. “Not for me,” he added quickly, “I just mean in a better headspace. Breakups are shit at the best of times.” 

“Getting there,” she answered tentatively, but he could hear the small smile in her voice. “I’ve made a lot of changes to help get me there.” 

“Good. I’m so glad to hear it.” He hoped that she could hear how genuine he was. He felt like he could breathe again as the proverbial air between them cleared. Feeling like they were on more solid footing together he decided to get a bit more into the details of her life now, since there weren’t thousands of other eyes watching or listening in. “I assume you’re back in Canada then?” 

“I am,” she said, almost regretfully. “I came back a few months ago. I finally packed up my stuff in Edmonton and moved to Calgary. My friends live here so it will be nice to be closer to them. I miss London though,” she said wistfully. 

“I’m sure you’ll make it back someday,” he said gently, hoping for his own sake that it would be true. 

“I got a new job today though!” she added, the excitement clear in her voice. 

“Congrats, petal! Where at?” He brought his arm up to rest behind his head and closed his eyes, focusing on her voice. He felt like they were back to where they’d left off all those months ago. 

“For McGraw-Hill. They create resources for schools and educators around the world. I will work from home, mainly, but I will also get to travel a bit, which will be nice. It’s a big opportunity, so I’m pretty happy about it.” 

“That’s amazing!” Niall enthused, genuinely happy for her. 

They chatted like that for almost an hour. He told her a bit more about his album and about flying back and forth between LA, London, and the Bahamas to write. She’d given him a hard time, and rightly so, for how hard that must have been; “flying around to all those places. Poor baby.” Of course, they talked about music and what they’d been listening to lately. She also told him some of the places she missed in London, including her favourite tea shop. 

“Have you been to ‘For the Record’ lately?” she asked, cautiously. 

“Nah, haven’t seen Joe for a few months, sadly. I went once right after we met. I left a note for ya, but I don’t know if you ever got it.” He didn’t remember everything he had said in it - some blundered apology and that he wished her well. 

“I did,” she answered quietly. “I thought about leaving one for you too, but I didn’t know what to say. I felt so foolish.” 

“Water under the bridge now, love,” Niall soothed. He hesitated, taking advantage of the momentary silence between them to choose his next words carefully. “Davina, I know we only met the once but I would really like to keep in touch with ya - as friends, “ he added the last part hurriedly, not wanting to put her off. “I feel like you got to know me better than most that night and that’s hard to find when your life is like mine.” He paused, hoping for a response but hearing nothing. Feeling awkward, he bumbled on, “Of course, I want to get to know you better too. It isn’t just about me. You’re so genuine, you’ve got bloody great taste in music-” 

“Are you saying that because I listen to your music?” she asked quickly. He paused for a second, horrified that he’d managed to put his foot in his mouth again, but then he heard her stifling a giggle on the other end and found himself chuckling in relief. 

“And you know when and how to take the piss out of me,” he added, “which few people are brave enough to do. So, how about it? Friends?” He held his breath, wishing he could see her face. 

“I have one condition,” she said, solemnly. 

“Name it,” he said, with more confidence than he felt. 

“We need friendship bracelets,” she said, and he could practically hear her fighting to keep her voice even and straight. 

“Only if I can have a blue one,” he responded, struggling to match her serious tone. 

“Well, they’ll have to match, obviously,” she said, a hint of a sarcastic Valley girl accent creeping into her voice. “It’s a good thing I like blue though. So yes, Niall, I will be your friend.” 

He laughed, “Perfect!” 

“Oh god, Niall. It’s 5 am there! Go to bed!” she said, suddenly realizing the time. 

He chuckled, “My time zones are still messed up. All that travelling - remember?” he teased. “I’ll catch a few hours and be fine. I’ve survived on less.” Even as he said it though, he found himself suppressing a yawn. 

“Alright, rockstar. Well, I should go to bed too - at a normal hour, like a real human being with a normal and boring life,” she teased back. “Sweet dreams. We have each other’s numbers now so we can chat again.” He couldn’t help but notice how happy she sounded as she said the last part. At least it wasn’t just him that wanted to keep their friendship going. 

“Sweet dreams, Davina,” he said, pulling himself up off the couch to a standing position. 

“Sweet dreams, Niall,” she almost whispered back before hanging up. 

He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, smiling into the darkness. The glow of the street lights cast long shadows over the floor, just like they had on the night that they had danced there. 

“Goodnight,” he said softly to the shadows, as he let his feet carry him to bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "Too Much To Ask" by Niall Horan but I almost called it "If the whole world was watching" from This Town, haha. 
> 
> More chapters will be added as soon as I have time. Thanks to anyone who has taken the time to read this. Sending love and gratitude.


	4. Take Me Back To The Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _My apologies if the next couple of chapters seem choppy. They are a series of vignettes showing small conversations or interactions between Niall and Davina as their relationship grows._

Davina was drowning in a sea paper. Her desk was littered with multiple resource books, text books, and print outs that McGraw Hill had sent over on Monday. She also had two screens going with digital resources that she was cross referencing. She had been at her new job for 3 days and felt like she was trying to wade her way through a deluge of information. Her first task was to cross reference the stack of resources before her and look for what should be cut, combined, and expanded on for new editions. It was tedious, but Davina was glad to be busy and feeling productive. 

She was so focused on her work that the buzz of her phone made her jump. Her eyes drifted to the time on her computer screen and she realized that she’d been buried in her work for the last 3 hours. She stood and headed for the kitchen in search of more coffee, taking her cell with her. The 10 minute break would do her good. 

She glanced at the phone as she walked but stopped in her tracks when she saw the name on the screen. 

Niall: Hey, It’s Niall. I know that we agreed on blue, but I saw this in the shop window and couldn’t resist getting a matching set. Hope you’re ok with it.

He had attached a photo of a massive, gaudy bracelet. It was a mixture of different gemstones, each a different cut, shape and colour. Some were embedded into the bracelet while others hung like charms. It probably cost a fortune, but it was hideous. 

Davina was fairly certain he was joking but quickly typed back: “Niall James Horan -please tell me you’re joking! That is atrocious. This may be the end of our friendship. (Also, you don’t have to introduce yourself every time. I have your # and name in my phone now).”

Niall: Oooh, using my middle name? Not fair when I don’t know yours. Fine, I’ll return it, Davina Regina Connor.

Davina: Did you just make up my middle name with a reference to the villain in Mean Girls? And did you seriously buy it? I’m sorry, I thought you were joking.

Niall: If the shoe fits, love. And yes, if I can’t have this bracelet, I will console myself by concocting horrific middle names for you, or until I guess it - whichever brings me the most joy. Right now, it’s definitely the first option.

Niall: Of course I didn’t buy it- it’s god awful. I just like getting you riled. Mission accomplished, I’d say.

Davina: I’m just looking out for your guitars. Just think of the carnage that bracelet would inflict on their beautiful finish! I can’t abide such crimes against music (and fashion...but mainly music). 

Niall: Well, I am glad that one of us is the practical one. Good thinking, Davina Prudence Connor. 

Davina : You’re not going to let this go, are you? I’m seriously reconsidering this whole thing. 

Niall: Too late to escape now - we’re in this together, like Bonnie and Clyde. 

Davina: You know that they died in the end, right?

Niall: Spoiler alert, Davina Bonnie Connor! 

Davina: Ok, well this has been “fun,” but some of us have jobs and deadlines to meet. I’ll catch you later.

Niall: Oh yeah! How’s the new gig? You’ll have to tell me about it later. Have a good day. 

Davina: Will do. Also, normal jobs aren’t called gigs PS. It’s Tiffany. I hate it. If you ever speak that name I will end you (and thus our friendship). 

Niall: Ah, yes. Will be more careful in my word choice next time so that I don’t offend your sensitive muggle self. PS. I think Tiffany is lovely (didn’t speak it - don’t kill me). 

Davina just smiled and shut off her phone’s screen. This was going to be trouble. 

**********

  
Niall was headed home after a long day at the studio in LA. They’d been remixing and tweaking a few of his songs for the last 7 hours. He loved creating music, but this part was always the most painful and tedious. He was fairly certain that listening to the same 30 second snippet of a song for hours on end was a method of torture in some countries- and if it wasn’t, it should be.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket just as he pulled up the driveway of his LA property. He groaned. It was probably one of the producers wanting him to listen to that section “just one more time.”

With a deep breath, he stepped out of his car and opened his text messages. However, the name on his screen was not who he was expecting.

Davina : You were on my newsfeed today. I maintain that you could never be a serial killer. 

She’d attached a paparazzi photo that had been taken that morning. They had snapped him getting out of his Range Rover to grab a smoothie on his way to the studio. He never understood how a photo of him doing the most boring shit could end up all over the internet. 

Niall: Good thing the body was well hidden in me trunk ;)

Davina : Better dump it soon - I can’t imagine that LA heat will be good for it. 

Niall: Already done. Thanks for the concern though. And Fuck the paps! I’m comin’ for them next. 

Davina : That must be really hard 

Niall: I can’t tell if that’s sarcastic, haha

Davina : I was actually being serious (shocking, I know). How do you deal with never knowing where they are going to find you or what they are going to take a picture of you doing? It must feel like you always have to be “on.” 

Niall: Sometimes. It is actually better than it used to be when I was with the boys. I don’t worry about being “on” all the time - but I also don’t feel like I can go out for a walk in joggers. 

Davina : Yeah, I get that. 

Davina : How was your day? Aside from the body dumping and pap photo. 

Niall: LONG! Spent hours in the studio listening to the same bits of songs over and over again just to get them perfect. Makes you loopy after a bit. 

Niall: Not complainin’ though. There are worse ways to spend a day. I realize I just sounded like an ass. 

Davina : No. You’re allowed to complain. That actually sounds pretty rough (both dealing with paps and listening to the same stuff repeatedly). It would drive me crazy.

Niall: I thought you liked my music :’(

Davina : haha, I do! But having to focus on the same few seconds of a song over and over again sounds like torture. 

Niall: haha, you’re not wrong. In fact, I was thinking the same thing not long ago. 

Niall: I just got home. Was going to crack a beer and relax.You free for a call? I still have to hear about this new job of yours. 

Davina : Sure, if you want. Just give me 5 mins. 

Davina : Also -Congrats on learning to not call it a “gig.”

Niall: Had a good teacher. And I do want. Will call in 5. 

Niall flicked back up to the paparazzi photo she had sent. His hair looked a bit windblown and they had caught him with a pretty severe scowl on his face, although he remembered being quite excited to get into the studio that morning. He could only imagine the headlines that would be made out of that single photo. 

_“One Direction star fighting with former bandmates over rumoured reunion”_

_“Niall Horan dumped by record label!”_

With a sigh he reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer. Leaning back against the fridge he twisted off the cap and took a long pull. Looking back at his phone to check the time, he found himself re-reading parts of his conversation with Davina. 

_“You’re allowed to complain.”_

He couldn’t even remember the last time someone had said that to him. He tried to maintain perspective on his lot in life- there were plenty worse ways to live, but it also made the bad days feel more isolating. He was surprised that Davina seemed to get that.

He kept thinking about their conversation as he quickly changed into his favourite pair of shorts and a fresh t-shirt. It was a gorgeous night so he found himself wandering outside by his pool and settling into a lounge chair. The sun was dipping behind the Los Angeles hills and the sky was streaked with hues of orange and pink. 

Niall hit the dial button by Davina’s name and brought the phone to his ear with a smile, “Alright Davina, educate me on the world of education.” 

**********

  
“If you just take a seat over there, someone will be out to get you shortly.” The receptionist gestured to a set of brightly coloured, plush chairs in the corner. Davina did as she was instructed, her heels echoing loudly in the cavernous reception area of Toronto’s McGraw Hill office.

She had spent the last 3 weeks pouring over the company’s education materials for grades 7-10. She’d made note of every redundancy, every “old fashioned” instructional method, and she had devised a proposal for the direction she felt the company’s new materials should move forward in. Davina trusted her work and knew that her proposal was sound, but she was still terrified. This was her first real shot at demonstrating her worth here and she didn’t want to mess it up. They had flown her in just for this one meeting and she didn’t want to mess it up.

She perched on the edge of the chair - sitting too far back into it caused her to sink down into its plush cushions, which was always inadvisable when wearing a pencil skirt. However, the perching effect automatically made her whole body feel on edge and tense. She immensely regretted arriving so early, as now all she could do was sit there like a bird on a wire and rotate between staring at the floor or the building’s enormous skylight that looked up into the grey haze that hovered over Toronto that day. 

Her phone buzzed in her bag and Davina realized that she should turn it to silent for the meeting. This would totally be the time that her mother would call repeatedly just to tell her about “a hilarious thing that I saw on TV that you really must watch,” or - worse yet- a new dating app that her “neighbour’s daughter’s friend met the love of her life through.” Davina hurriedly dug her phone out and began to change the ring setting when she noticed the message that had come in. 

Niall: I would say “good luck” but you don’t need it. You’ll smash it!

Davina smiled despite herself. She’d told Niall all about this meeting when she’d updated him on her job over the phone a couple of weeks ago. Quite frankly, she was shocked that he remembered. Looking up to make sure that no one seemed to be coming to get her she quickly shot back a message.

Davina : Thanks! I’m nervous. I feel like you during that “Tattoo Roulette” segment on the Late Late Show. Good timing though - meeting starts in a few mins, I think.

Niall: Unless they are threatening to brand you with the company’s logo, there is no need to be that afraid. You’ve got this, petal. And, I know - that’s why I texted. I have a pretty good memory for this stuff. 

Davina : 1) Haven’t seen anyone with a tattoo yet, so I should be safe, haha. That does put things in perspective, though. Thank you for your faith in me - even if it is completely unfounded. 2) You even got the time difference right - how?

Niall: 1) Faith doesn’t need proof, it just exists (I am a good Irish Catholic boy, after all). 2) I think that at least 75% of my life is spent figuring out what time zone I am in, what time zone I am heading to, and planning for timezones I will be in days or weeks from now, haha. 

Davina heard heels approaching down a long hallway. She quickly texted back.

Davina: Gotta go. I’m up. 

Niall: Remember - you’ve got this! Text me later.

Davina smiled as she slipped her phone back into her bag. She had to admit that Niall’s confidence in her, even though he had never seen her doing anything even remotely related to her work, had given her the boost she needed. 

She slowly exhaled out her nose, letting go of the remaining tension in her body, just as a smiling young woman entered the reception area and approached her. 

“Ms. Connor? The team is ready for you in the conference room. I’ll take you there now.”

Davina rose from the chair and tucked her bag under her arm. “Perfect! Lead the way!” she said enthusiastically, returning the woman’s smile. 

The assistant turned on her heel and led Davina back down the hallway she had come from. 

“You’ve got this,” Davina whispered to herself, but it was Niall’s voice that she heard in her head as she followed the assistant into the conference room. 

**********

  
It was a Saturday morning and Davina was in heaven. She was curled up in her bed with a giant cup of coffee, a book, and the sounds of an old jazz record softly playing in the background. This was her favourite way to spend a weekend morning, especially after a long week.

She had flown back from Toronto a couple of days ago and, while she felt that the meeting had gone really well, she had yet to hear back about it. She was not a patient person and she had been anxiously checking every email and phone call for the last few days, hoping that it was some type of feedback about her proposal. Now, however, it was the weekend, and she knew that she wouldn’t hear anything until at least Monday. So, she could relax and stop worrying. 

Which is why she almost didn’t check her phone when it vibrated on her bedside table. It was only as she reached for her coffee there that she saw the name of the texter and decided to put her book down and reply.

Niall: Hey, do you have a few minutes? I need your expertise. 

Davina: Sure, what’s up?

Niall: Can I Facetime you? Much easier that way. 

Davina looked down at her pyjama tank top and ran her hand through her hair. A video call was not ideal, but it sounded semi-urgent. 

Davina: I just woke up. Still in PJs and hair is a mess. Give me 5. 

Niall: Stop it. You’re beautiful. Fine though - Facetime when ready. 

Davina blushed a little at the compliment before hurriedly hauling herself out of her bed and ducking into her closet. She pulled on a bra and an off the shoulder sweatshirt. “Casual but still cute,” she whispered as she looked in the mirror, without allowing herself to question why that mattered to her. She quickly pulled her hair into a messy bun to complete her “I’m trying to look like I’m not trying” look and threw on a coat of mascara. Satisfied that she looked presentable enough she crawled back into her bed and retrieved her phone from where she had thrown it across the duvet in her earlier haste. 

Niall picked up immediately. “There she is! How are ya, darlin?” 

Davina couldn’t help but return his grin. “I’m good! Saturdays are always good.” Niall hummed in agreement. “What’s up? She asked again. 

“I need your help,” Niall repeated. “I can’t decide which song to put as the final track on me new album. Votes are split and you’re the tie-breaker.”

Davina’s jaw dropped a little and she just blinked at Niall for a few seconds. “You want me to decide on the final track for your album? Seriously? That’s what you need my “expertise” for?”

Niall’s smile didn’t waver but he raised an eyebrow at her, almost mockingly. ”What did ya think I needed?”

“I assumed that you’d discovered you had a secret love child and that you needed help choosing a school for him or something, since that is actually my area of expertise,” Davina answered with a smirk. 

Niall threw his head back and laughed, and Davina thought that she heard someone else laughing in the background. For a split second she regretted potentially embarrassing Niall in front of a producer or something, but Niall didn’t seem the least bit bothered. 

He recovered and looked back at the camera, blue eyes shining - which she had come to learn was an indicator that he was in top teasing form. “Didn’t know that secret love children were your expertise, petal, but I’ll keep that in mind for future.” Then, Niall’s expression turned more serious. “Truly though, I need your help. I’ve gone ‘round and ‘round and can’t decide. I trust your opinion more than most.”

Davina blushed at this, flattered at his trust in her. Someone mumbled something off camera and, without looking away from Davina, Niall threw his hand off screen and appeared to flick or smack them. 

“Is someone else with you?” Davina asked, even more self-conscious to have an audience she couldn’t see. 

“Nah, one of my mates was just leaving. His opinion is useless, don’t ya worry.” Niall gave his friend, still off screen, a pointed look before turning his gaze back to Davina. “Alright, ya ready? I’m going to play you two tracks. Just tell me which you like better, or which you think will be best to complete the album - based on what I’ve told ya about it.”

Davina nodded and gave a small, “OK” as she settled back against her headboard, coffee cup in hand to help her focus. Niall pressed a few keys on an off-screen computer and music came over the speakers. 

The first song started as a slow piano and guitar ballad. Niall’s voice was filled with regret and the lyrics conveyed his difficulty in letting go of a love that was already gone. Part way through she could hear a fiddle enter the arrangement and the beat picked up into more of a traditional Celtic tune. It sounded like something you’d hear in an Irish pub towards closing time. Davina closed her eyes while she listened, trying to block out the nagging feeling that Niall was watching her reactions closely. She couldn’t help but frown slightly at the underlying sadness in his voice. This song was personal - she could feel it. Then, she smiled as the tempo increased and the song seemed to signal that he was making peace with the past and moving on. 

When it finished she slowly opened her eyes and found him biting his nail and looking at her. “What’d ya think?” he asked hesitantly. 

“It’s beautiful, Niall! But, I don’t want to say anything else until I hear the second one.”

He nodded, seemingly willing to be patient as he wordlessly cued up the next track. 

This one started with a simple acoustic guitar. For a second she was transported to the instrument room in Joe’s shop, sitting on the floor and watching Niall pluck away in front of her. She exhaled and closed her eyes again. This one was similar to the first: remorseful and sad over the loss of a relationship. It was simpler in its musicality, but deeper in tone and mood. Niall’s vocals were central and carried the emotion of the song. Some strings entered part way through but they were understated, never detracting from the raw, almost pleading, tone of Niall’s voice. The song made her heart ache. 

The track ended and she opened her eyes again. This time Niall’s face was intentionally and comedically close to the phone. “Well - what’s the verdict?” 

Davina laughed and then took a moment to collect her thoughts. Regardless of what Niall thought or said, she was no expert. However, if he valued her opinion enough to seek it out like this she owed it to him to give it her best shot. 

“Well…” she began slowly, “the first track is gorgeous! I love the Celtic vibe towards the end - it’s so you. I also love how it focuses on all of the little parts of the relationship that are left behind when someone leaves and having to contend with that.” Davina thought of what it had felt like to open a drawer and find Mark’s shaving cream in it, or how she’d spent months finding items of his clothing hiding under the bed and in the back of the closet. Each time had been like a punch in the gut. 

“The second one though. It is pretty much just you and a guitar for most of the song - which is how I, and most of your fans, probably think of you. There is beauty in its simplicity. It’s raw and I love that.”

Niall nodded, seeming to appreciate her feedback before saying,”You’d make a lovely politician. That doesn’t answer my question though, petal. Which one do I end the album with? Which is the track that, when it finishes, makes you say “That was a great album!” or at least say, “Well it wasn’t complete shit!” 

Davina laughed at his joke but felt nervous. She hated feeling so responsible for something so important to him. Her gut was giving her a clear answer though, so she took a deep breath and said, “If it were me, I’d do the second one. I prefer when the last track is slower in tempo and emotionally leaves you wanting more. If I heard that last track, I would immediately go and play the whole album again. That’s just me though.”

Niall smiled and she felt like she’d made the right decision, or at least given him a reason he was happy with. 

“Second song it is then. Thank you. Told ya you know what you’re talking about.”

“I still don’t know about that. I am just a sucker for the simple ones. It’s also why I love “From the Dining Table” on Harry’s album. It’s just his voice and a guitar.”

Niall pressed his lips together for a second and his brow furrowed slightly. Davina’s heart stopped. Had she said the wrong thing? Niall and Harry were still on good terms, weren’t they? Of course, no musician wants to be compared to another - especially one they were already constantly measured against. 

“Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. I just meant -” Davina began before Niall burst out laughing again, and whoever he was with joined him. 

“You were right. Her taste in music is superior,” said a quiet and smooth British accent. Davina froze and felt the colour leave her face. She knew that voice. 

Niall stifled his laughing and said, “No, no, love. That’s a comparison I don’t mind at all. Say hi to Harry.” With that he swung the phone over to a smiling Harry Styles, who waved awkwardly at the camera.

“Hello,” he said, almost sheepishly. “It’s lovely to meet you, Davina.” Even through the phone he was stunningly handsome and cool. 

“Hi Harry,” Davina half whispered. She could feel the blood rush back to her cheeks and ears, and she instinctively curled up, placing her head in her hands, trying to hide the burning sensation she felt in her face and ears. 

“Dining Table is one of my favourites too, so thanks,” he mumbled, somehow seeming more embarrassed than she was. “Good choice, by the way. I told Ni that the second track was the only way to finish the album.”

The phone swung back to Niall’s grinning mug. “Yeah, now that you’ve agreed with him I’ll never live it down.”

“They are both great songs, Niall. I can’t wait to hear it all together,” Davina said earnestly. 

“I’ll make sure you’re one of the first to get a listen when it’s all polished and put together,” Niall promised. Then, as if remembering something he added, “Hey, Joe wants to send you something. Can you text me your address?” 

“Oh, sure.” Davina didn’t know what Joe could possibly want to send her but the thought of getting mail from her second home made her heart swell a bit. 

“I’ve gotta run, darlin’. Thanks for your help though. Truly.” Niall looked straight into the camera and Davina knew that he meant it. She couldn’t help but smile knowing how her opinion seemed to matter so much to him.  
“I mean, I guess if you have unreleased songs that you need to play for someone, I could be that someone - if I have to,” she teased. 

“Yep, part of your contract,” he shot back. 

She raised her eyebrow and looked at him dubiously, “I haven’t signed a contract.”

“It’s in the mail,” he answered with a wink. He stood as he said it, clearly getting ready to leave somewhere. 

“I’ll let you go,” she said, even though part of her didn’t want to. “Have a good night.” 

“Wait,” he said suddenly, looking down into the phone, brows knit together. “Heard back from Toronto yet?” 

She sighed, “No. Still waiting.”

“Don’t stress, love. You smashed it.”

“I hope so,” she answered wistfully. 

“Talk soon,” he promised.

“Sounds good,” she answered, before grinning and yelling, “Bye, Harry!!” 

“Bye Davina!” she heard from somewhere across the room from Niall, followed by, “I like her! You are so - ” before Niall hung up the phone. 

Davina took a sip of her coffee, now cold, and sighed. That was not how she had expected her Saturday morning to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is taken from "Golden" by Harry Styles himself :-)


	5. Hold Me Close But At a Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I changed the rating to M because 1) Niall has a dirty mouth (did you immediately hear Zayn and Harry singing that part in "Best Song Ever" too?) and swears a lot. 2) I don't want to catch anyone by surprise in later chapters now that I've decided that I am actually going to see this fic through to the end.  
> Happy reading!

By Wednesday morning, Davina was antsy and irritated. Julia, the head of her department in Toronto, was on vacation - or so her “out of office” email had said when Davina had sent a polite inquiry in follow up to their meeting. 

So, she sat in front of her computer with no real direction to go in. The office had sent her a bunch of proofreading tasks and busy work, but Davina didn’t have the focus for it. She decided to make some tea to settle her mood. It had always helped before. 

She put the kettle on and rummaged through her tea cupboard, looking for her favourite tea blend. As she set the tea bag in the cup her mind wandered to the time that Niall had made tea for her in London. It was a similarly grey and drizzly day today in Calgary, which made the memory more vivid somehow. She had been so surprised that he cared about her work - she still was. 

Not many people understood teachers. If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t always sure why she had gotten into education herself. She had gotten her English degree first because she loved literature and writing; the education degree came because she wanted to share that love with others. For a few years she had loved being in the classroom, but eventually the lack of job security, combined with long hours and low enthusiasm from her students (and the general population) wore her down. She had thought that working in education consulting would be better, but lately she wasn’t sure. 

Davina chewed on her lip as she stood there, waiting for the kettle to boil. She didn’t like feeling so unsure. She didn’t like being unhappy for reasons that she couldn’t put her finger on. It made her feel vulnerable, and she had vowed to never feel that way again. 

Davina was jolted from her thoughts by a knock at the door. Puzzled, she went to open it. A glance through the peephole revealed that her visitor was James, one of the concierges of her apartment building. Her apartment was not fancy, but the concierges acted as building security and spent most of the time letting in tenants who forgot their keys or whose pass wouldn’t let them into the parking garage.

“James!” Davina greeted him brightly as she opened the door. 

He gave her a slight bow, which was comical considering he was dressed in a suit and she was in an old university hoodie and leggings. “Ms. Connor,” he greeted her back before holding out a rather large box to her. “This came for you just now. I signed for it on your behalf. Hope you don’t mind. I noticed that it was shipped overnight so I thought it may be urgent.”

Davina looked at the package quizzically for a moment before her eyes landed on the British postmarks and her grim mood immediately brightened. “Thanks, James!” She scooped the box out of his hands and, after a hurried goodbye, let the door shut loudly behind her as she rushed to put the box on her dining table.

The box was heavier than she had thought it would be on first glance. “What has Joe sent me?” she wondered, looking around her kitchen for a pair of scissors to break the seal. Finding them, she cautiously cut the tape, being careful to not go too deep lest she should damage whatever was inside. After digging through a small mountain of bubble wrap she finally revealed the first item in the box and immediately felt herself tear up. 

When she was small, about 4 or 5 years old, her favourite record had been a recording of Disney’s “Snow White.” It was like an audiobook before they were cool. She would spend what felt like hours listening to it over and over again. She knew every word by heart, including the two sections that would skip because the record had a scratch. Her copy of the record had been broken during one of her family’s moves and she’d never seen another. Shortly after she’d moved to London and found “For the Record” she had asked Joe if he’d ever seen a record like that for sale before. He had written down the name and said he would look into it, but she hadn’t thought of it after. The fact that he had found it, after all of this time, had her wishing she could pop by his shop and give him a big hug. 

“Thanks, Joe,” she whispered as she lovingly stroked the cover art. It’s yellowed and muted colours brought back a flood of memories, and suddenly she was 5 years old again, sitting on the floor and watching the record turn. 

Eventually, her attention strayed back to the box. It was far too heavy to just hold this one record. Lifting up the bubble wrap she gasped and then chuckled. It was Harry Style’s album. Pulling it out she saw a note tucked into it, it’s writing unfamiliar: _“To Davina, with the superior taste in music. All the love, Harry.”_ Davina realized that her mouth was hanging open a little, so she made a conscious effort to close it. In what world did both Harry Styles and Niall Horan not only know who she was but write her personalized notes? Also - how did Harry get this record to Joe? Did all of the musicians in London go to his shop?

Davina’s question was answered as soon as she resumed digging in the box. It was a care package of all of her favourite London goodies. There was tea from her favourite shop in London, a collection of candies and chocolates that you could only find in Britain, and a coffee table book that was filled with beautiful photos from all over the city. On the inside cover of the book was an inscription; _“Home is not always where you were born. - Niall”_

Davina hugged the book to her chest and smiled. This was all his doing. Weeks ago she had blabbered on the phone to Niall about everything she missed about London, but she hadn’t really expected that he’d paid attention, and she certainly didn’t expect him to remember it all. But, he had. 

“Good timing,” she said to herself, excitedly pulling tea out of the bottom of the care package and remembering the kettle she had abandoned in the kitchen. She was just about to return to it when a flash of teal caught her eye at the very bottom of the package. She pulled out a small aqua coloured box and gasped. 

Taped across the front of it was a note that said, “From the place that shall not be named,” which made her laugh. She opened it up to find a Tiffany bracelet with stones in its signature blue. It was fine and delicate but not too blingy or fancy. It was perfectly to Davina’s taste. As she gently took it out, she realized that it was sitting on top of another folded note:

_Hope that this shade of blue is ok. I wanted a matching set but the sales lady (who looked a bit like the scary receptionist in Monster’s Inc.) convinced me to go for the manlier option._

Below the note was a photo of a simple leather bracelet with accents of dark brushed metal. A small scribbled note beside it said, _Don’t worry, Prudence. It doesn’t scratch me guitar - I checked.”_

Davina had to admit it was handsome looking. An arrow in the bottom corner of the paper caught her eye, prompting her to flip the sheet over. She began laughing as soon as she saw the title.

_“Friendship Contract_

_I, Davina “Middle name that starts with a T” Connor, agree to tell Niall James Horan that his music is the best at all times, even when Harold Styles is present._

_In exchange, Niall will remind you that you’re awesome and provide you with a lifetime supply of aforementioned amazing music, tea, and chocolate._

_Bracelet wearing is mandatory._

Davina’s grin was so wide that her cheeks hurt. This is exactly the pick-me up she needed today. 

Putting on the bracelet, she snapped a pic and opened a text to Niall. 

Davina: 1) Friends - of course! 2) Thank You - you’re too generous. 3) You’re amazing. 4) I can’t believe you did all of that. 5) I was only joking about the bracelet, but I love it! 

His reply came an hour or so later, just as she was settling back to work with a cup of tea and a permanent grin on her face. 

Niall: 1) Success! 2) Nonsense - You deserve it. 3) That’s my part of the contract (read it again). 4) The lady at the candy shop now thinks I am addicted to Twirl bars. 5) I never joke about friendship bracelets.

Davina sent him back a photo of the wrapper for the Twirl bar that she had just inhaled. 

Davina: Your sacrifice is appreciated. 

Niall: Good. Headed into a meeting with some label execs. Chat later. X

Davina: Definitely! Good luck. Oh, and thank Harry for me! X

**********

Niall relaxed into the back seat of the car that Capitol Records had sent for him. He’d flown back stateside last night and he was knackered. The driver slowly navigated through Los Angeles traffic and Niall absentmindedly played with his bracelet as he watched the city skyline pass by.

He was glad that Davina liked the care package. The Tiffany bracelet had been a gamble; both because he hadn’t felt entirely confident that he knew her style and because he didn’t know if sending her jewellery would scare her off. He wanted to send her something as a thank you though, even if she didn’t know why. 

When he had met Davina he’d been recovering from his own heartbreak. A girl that he had cared deeply about had betrayed him and his trust. Normally music was a safe haven for him, but this particular heartache had caused him to lose his focus and motivation to create. 

Davina had reminded him who the music was for and about all of the artists and sounds that inspired him. Even before they had rekindled their friendship, she had been a constant figure in the back of his mind. She was the silent and oblivious force behind much of his latest album.

When Haz had come to the studio the other day to hear it, he had picked up on Niall’s secret muse immediately. Harry had always known Niall better than he often knew himself. “Who is she?” he’d asked simply - and Niall had told him the whole story. 

Remembering Harry, Niall pulled his phone back out and shot him a quick text. 

Niall: Davina says thanks for the record. She seemed pretty tickled. 

Harry responded right away.

Harry: Not a problem. She really is great. Don’t fuck that up, mate. 

Niall: Trying not to. 

And he didn’t want to. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t attracted to her, but if she just wanted to be friends he would respect that, because he respected her. He just wanted her to be in his world, somehow. 

The car slowed to a stop in front of the restaurant where the Capitol team was waiting for him. Niall clicked off his phone and put it in his jacket pocket. He was nervous to meet the execs today, although he couldn’t place his finger on why. He supposed it was always nerve-wracking to present a project you’d been working on for months to those who had the power to squash it if they wanted to. 

“Don’t fuck it up,” he repeated to himself as the driver opened his door and he stepped out.

**********

“13!” Niall exhaled out quickly as he pushed his arms and the weights over his head before bringing them back down.

“14!” he said through gritted teeth as he counted the next repetition. His arms were burning but he didn’t want to stop, because when he stopped, he thought about the meeting last night and he did _not_ want to think about that. 

He was in his home gym trying to work out his frustration. Normally he’d leave the house, go on a hike or something to clear his head, but there was a paparazzi car parked outside and he didn’t have the patience for their bullshit today. But, the trapped feeling was doing nothing to help his mood. 

“15!” he counted, pushing the weights up again, even as sweat dripped down his brow. The weights were too heavy for this many reps and for him to be lifting them without a spotter, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone anyway. 

“Fuck!” he said under his breath as the weights came back down and he felt his grip start to slip. Conceding defeat he let the weights fall to the floor with a thud and stalked around his gym, shaking his arms out as he did so. 

_”We love the record! It’s great! We just want it to be a bit more modern. It needs an edge. Something gritty.”_

Niall had spent over an hour last night defending his music, his songs, and his style to a group of men in suits who had nodded and kissed his ass, while simultaneously telling him that his music was found wanting. 

It wasn’t like the conversation was new to Niall. He’d been told the same many times, especially when he had been with One Direction, but he had foolishly hoped that he had proven himself by now - that his fanbase would have earned him some credibility and autonomy. Apparently not. 

Suddenly, between the blood pounding in his ears, his heavy breathing, the loud music that he had blasting through his gym’s stereo, and his own thoughts, Niall felt suffocated by sound. Deciding to eliminate the factor that he could most easily control, he went over to his phone to turn off the music. As soon as he shut off the 70s rock that he had playing, he immediately felt some of the pressure in his brain clear. 

A little “1” above his message icon caught his eye. He almost didn’t click it because he couldn’t take on anyone else’s requests or demands today. But then he remembered that it might be his assistant, Tara, who was juggling several projects for him currently. Or, it may be Mark, his partner at Modest! Golf, texting about that contract they were trying to land. It could also be his Mum, who he had been meaning to call for days and had kept forgetting to. So, out of guilt, he clicked the icon. 

The message wasn’t from any of those people, but it was from the only other person who Niall might consider talking to right now. 

Davina: Hey! How did the meeting go last night? Did you “smash it?” (I feel like I can’t pull that off unless I have a UK accent). 

Niall smiled, despite himself, but hesitated to text back. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Davina - he very much did. It was that he wasn’t sure if she would want to talk to him when he felt like this. He wasn’t even sure what to say in response. 

He walked back into the main part of the house, tossing off his sweaty clothes and throwing them in the laundry bin. Niall considered taking a shower but also realized that Davina could see that he had read her message, which added some pressure. Left in just his boxers he grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge and then sat on the floor like a child, avoiding sitting on any of his furniture in his sweaty state. He drafted at least 3 responses back to Davina before finally forcing himself to press send.

Niall: More like they smashed me. Didn’t go well. Still pretty pissed about it, if I’m honest. Processing it and figuring out where to go from here. 

Her reply was immediate- her concern clear.

Davina: What happened? Want me to Facetime and you can talk it through with me? Or regular call, if that’s better...

Any doubt that Niall felt evaporated and his finger hovered over the call icon by her name. He wanted to hear her voice and not the voices of the men in suits from last night. However, he needed to mentally prepare and get in a better headspace first. 

Niall : Sure, if you want. Just got finished a workout though. Am a sweaty mess. Give me 10 to shower. 

Davina : Stop it - you’re handsome. And I do want. Call when ready.

Niall chuckled at her parroting back his words to him from some of their previous conversations. 

Niall : Cheeky. Will call soon. 

She sent back a winky face that made Niall grin more than it should have as he walked into the shower. 

When he was done he threw on a fresh pair of shorts but was too warm for a shirt. Even with the air conditioner pumping, the sun was shining in the windows of his LA pad and making everything feel uncomfortably warm. Grabbing his phone, he laid back in his favourite armchair. 

“Let’s just complete the self torture today, shall we?” Niall mumbled to himself as he opened his texting stream with Davina. He could just text her or voice call her, but he would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t want to see her face. 

Niall: Done. Facetime?

Davina: Whatever you’re up for.

Niall: I should warn you that it’s a million degrees here, so I am not wearing a shirt. 

Davina: Consider my eyes warned. It is significantly less than a million degrees here so I have on enough layers for both of us. 

Niall chuckled and clicked the Facetime button. Within seconds Davina’s dimpled grin was gracing his screen. Her hair was long and down today and Niall wished that he could run his fingers through it. She was wearing a dark green sweater that brought out the emerald in her eyes. Niall felt his blood pressure drop instantly just looking at her. 

“Hey, bestie!” she said, holding up her wrist with the bracelet on it. 

“Looks good on ya!” He held up his own braceleted wrist in answer. 

“I like it! Very masculine!” she teased, eyes shining. 

“So I’ve been told.”

Her eyes darkened a bit and her expression softened. “What happened yesterday?” She said it with so much compassion and concern that he felt a lump form in his throat instantaneously. 

He quickly cleared it and then responded, “It went the same as many meetings with label execs go. They spend half the time blowing smoke up your ass about how great you are, and then the other half telling you all the things they wish you and your music would be instead. I don’t know why this time has me so riled. Just need to get over it,” he said, forcing a smile. 

Davina didn’t buy into his deflection. “What do they want you and your music to be?” she gently prodded. 

Niall sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “They just want it to be gritter - edgier, I guess. They felt it was too soft and typical - like my sound hasn’t progressed.”

Davina bit her lip for a moment and seemed to consider her next words carefully. “And what do you think about that?”

“I think it’s a load of shit,” he half-laughed. “I worked my ass off on this album and it doesn’t feel soft to me. There are some bangers on there - some tracks that will be so much fun to perform live. I think about that every time I write. I never do an album of just ballads.”

Davina nodded. “When you described your album to me, you said you had a lot of 80s pop and rock influence on it. And you said it looked at all of the different aspects and stages of relationships. Is that still true? I can’t see songs that do that sounding soft.” 

Now it was Niall’s turn to nod, “Yeah. I don’t know. One of the little shits even called it “safe,” which is the kiss of death in the music industry.”

Davina’s eyes flashed before settling into a storm of sea green; a crease appeared in her brow. “Have they not followed your career at all? You were on the writing team behind every single one of One Direction’s edgier songs or ones that pushed a different sound. You don’t play it safe, Niall. But you’re also a pop-folk singer. You’re not a one man rock band or dance artist. What exactly are they expecting from you?”

Niall couldn’t help it, he laughed. “I’m sorry, petal, I didn’t mean to get you all worked up.” Although he had to admit he was enjoying it because she was adorable when she was angry. 

“I _am_ though!” she insisted. “So many artists “jump the shark” and let themselves be pulled in artistic directions that they don’t even want. If you go on any form of social media the thing that your fans appreciate most about you is how authentic you are. The fact that anyone would try to challenge you on that infuriates me!”

“Do you check out what me fans are saying about me on social media often, then?” he teased with a smirk. 

Davina didn’t rise to his bait though, she just continued her rant. “Your musical strength is actually that your music appeals to such a wide audience. Everyone from teens to grandmas can go to your concerts or hear your songs on the radio and enjoy it. You have 40 million followers on Twitter! That many people cannot be wrong!”

“Well, that settles it then,” Niall said calmly. 

“What?” she asked tentatively. 

“I am never going to a meeting with my label again unless you’re with me. You make a case for me far better than I ever could!” he laughed. Her arguments had put his mind at ease though. They had reassured him that he was the artist that he thought that he was, and he was mad at himself for not fighting for that more last night. 

Davina didn’t join him in his laughter, but she did finally smile and her shoulders dropped. The tempest in her eyes calmed a bit. 

“I just don’t like seeing anyone try to take advantage of you,” she said softly. “You’ve more than proven yourself and the fact that they don’t trust you is ridiculous.”

“It’s not their job to trust me, love,” he said gently, telling her as much as he was telling himself. “Their job is to ensure that I sell as many records as possible.”

“And you will,” she said emphatically, “as long as you don’t alienate the fanbase that you have.”

“True,” he agreed. “You’ve given me an idea though, actually. If I can get my team to pull together evidence from my fans - tweets and whatnot - about what they are hoping my next album will be, it might make my case for me.” 

Davina sat up straight and her face brightened. “I can help with that. I have a Twitter account that I don’t use much. I can try to get some conversations going online by reaching out to some of your fan accounts. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“You don’t have to do that, darlin’. I will get my team on it tomorrow.”

“Well, I don’t have much else going on lately. It will give me something to do. Would you be mad if I tried? Worst case scenario my tweets will get lost in the deluge of tweets dedicated to your hair or something.”

Niall threw his head back and laughed, “It’s good hair!” before adding, “Of course, I wouldn’t be mad. I just don’t want you to trouble yourself, that’s all. And what do you mean you have nothing else going on? Work slow?”

Davina visibly crumpled a bit. “Yeah - they just have me doing boring and mundane stuff. I haven’t heard back about my proposal and if they reject that or feel I’m not a good fit, then I’ll be done. I won’t know where to go from there,” she said in a small voice, eyes cast down. 

“Hey,” Niall said gently, waiting until she looked back up at him. “Don’t count yourself out before they do. Chin up, love.” He wished that he could reach through the phone and tilt her face up and into the light where it belonged. 

Davina exhaled deeply but eventually she rewarded him with a smile, “You’re right. Thanks.”

“It’s me who should be thanking you. I was ready to commit murder an hour ago. Thanks for talking me down.”

“Didn’t you _just_ dump a body?” she asked, eyebrow raised but mouth twitching in amusement. 

“True, I did. I’ll run out of hiding spots soon. Gonna have to pace myself.”

Davina’s eyes drifted off screen and she looked startled. “Shit! Sorry, Niall. I have to go. My friend, Bree, is coming to pick me up any minute and I’m nowhere near ready.”

“You look perfect to me,” he thought, but instead he said, “Of course, go have fun. Thanks for listening - seriously.” He hoped that she could hear how much he meant it. 

“Anytime,” she answered, and she seemed to mean it just as much.

**********

Niall woke up late the next morning- the latent effects of jet lag, he supposed, and saw that he had a series of texts waiting for him. The first, sent 3 hours beforehand, was from Davina.

Davina: Success! I got **#IwantNH2tosoundlike** trending in several different countries, and I was right! 

She had included multiple screencaps of tweets about what fans wanted from his second album (dubbed ‘NH2’ by the fans). A quick scan of their tweets included words like: acoustic, heartfelt, authentic, fun, and #happylikeNiall. 

Niall hadn’t even talked to Tara or his team yet about combing through social media for clues about what his fans wanted, but Davina had already done the work for them, getting his largest fan accounts to take up the call. And the best part was that what his fans seemed to want is exactly what he had recorded. 

A quick scan of his other messages revealed that Tara was already aware of his trending status. Niall kindly asked her to track as much data about it as possible. He promised to explain more later and, because Tara was amazing and used to such requests, she said that she was already on it. 

He had another text from his manager, echoing his feeling of relief that his record seemed to be perfectly in keeping with what the masses were wishing for online. 

Ecstatic, Niall immediately called Davina. It rang several times and Niall realized that it was mid-day Friday and she was probably working. He was about to hang up when he heard, “Hi, Niall,” on the other end. 

Her voice was so quiet that he almost missed it. _“Probably just a bad connection,”_ he thought to himself as he walked to a more open area of his house, in case the problem was on his end. 

“You are magic, woman!” he enthused. “I don’t know how you did it, but you did it, and I am so grateful! The label won’t be able to argue with this now. I owe you everything, love! Thank you.”

“I’m so glad it might help, Niall. You deserve to release the record you want - especially since your fans want it too.” 

Niall stopped in the middle of his tracks. Davina’s words were sincere but her voice was strained. This wasn’t a bad connection. Something was wrong. 

“Are you alright, darlin’?” he asked, gently. 

He heard what sounded like a sniffle on the other end, and then, “I’m fine. Just a hiccup at work. I’m ok. I should go though -”

“Davina, wait!” he interrupted, trying to head her off before she could hang up. He could hear the emotion in her voice and he couldn’t just leave it alone. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

The silence was so long that he had to look at his phone to see if she had already hung up. When she did speak, she could barely choke out the words. 

“They let me go, Niall. They, and I quote, ‘liked my ideas but think they are too progressive at this time.’ They want to play it safe.” She laughed bitterly, then added, “You and I have opposite problems with our bosses, it seems.” 

Niall’s heart plunged into his stomach. “I’m so sorry, love. They’re idiots. They just let you go? For having different ideas?” He was bewildered. How could an employer not see her value? Not see how smart she is?

Davina sniffed again, “They called an hour ago. They said that they have another employee whose ‘values and vision’ align better with their directives right now. I didn’t even know I was in competition with anyone.” She paused and he heard her blow her nose. He wanted to be there to hold her so badly that his arms physically twitched. 

“It’s not even like I proposed anything radical,” she continued. “I just suggested that they diversify the voices in their literature. Phase out some of the dead, white guys and bring in texts from people of colour - both historical and contemporary. I mean, I guess it’s for the best if that’s too advanced for them, but fuck!” She sniffed again and Niall was simultaneously filled with rage and sorrow. 

“What can I do, love? I have to be able to do something.”

She sighed, “No, there isn’t anything. I’m sorry that I just dumped all of that on you. You should be celebrating and I just ruined it. I’m so sorry, Niall.”

“Shhhh now,” he soothed. “I don’t care about that. You’ve ruined nothin’ so don’t worry about that, ok?”

“Ok,” she whispered, but didn’t sound convinced. 

“Is there anyone there for you?” he asked quietly. “I hate that I can’t be there in person. What about your friend from yesterday? Bree, was it?”

“It’s her and her husband’s anniversary today. They make a big deal of it every year. I’m not calling and ruining their day too,” she said firmly. 

“If you’re thinking you ruined my day, stop it. I dumped on you yesterday, you dumped on me today. That’s what friends do, love. It’s just driving me nuts that I can’t do more from here.”

“I’ll be ok,” she said with more conviction than he believed was authentic. “It’s just a shock. I think I just need a day to process it and make a new plan. That’s usually how I deal with stuff: a day to be sad and a day to make a battle plan.”

“Ok,” Niall said meekly. He wished he could do more. He loathed feeling helpless. “But if you need anything else, you’ll let me know, yeah?”

“Promise.” she said. “I’m gonna go take a hot shower. See if that helps.”

“Ok. I’m free all day so text or call later, if you want.”

“Thanks, Niall.” And, with a click she was gone. 

Niall stood there for several long moments, staring at his phone and tugging at his hair, wracking his brain for what he could do. Suddenly, his eyes brightened and, after a few quick taps, he brought his phone back up to his ear. 

“Hey Tara, I need you to do one last thing for me.”

**********

“Now I’m searching every lonely place! Every corner calling out your name!” Davina belted out the words along with her stereo as she danced around her kitchen. One Direction had always been her go-to band whenever she had a bad day, and “Where Do Broken Hearts Go” was her favourite song.

“Tryna find ya but I just don’t know…” Davina scanned her pantry before finding the vanilla she was searching for and snatching it triumphantly. She was in the midst of making cookies. Baking always helped her keep her mind off of things. “Where do broken hearts go?”

_“Is it weird that I’m still listening to One Direction now that I know two of the band members?”_ she wondered to herself as she stirred together ingredients. She considered it for a moment, humming along as Harry’s voice filled her apartment, but then she decided that she didn’t care. She’d rather be happy and focus on music - happy music - than the worry eating away at her gut. 

Education jobs were hard to come by at the best of times and the market right now was not good. She had enough saved to float her for a little bit, but after that she’d be in trouble. There was the bookstore down the street. Maybe they were hiring? They wouldn’t pay much but something was better than nothing. Would she have to go overseas again?

Her mind swirled as she scooped up cookie batter, rolled it into balls, and slammed it on the cookie sheet with more force than was necessary. 

It was the fact that she had failed that bothered her more than anything. She had gone into education to teach in schools, but she couldn’t hack it. So, she had joined the statistic of all of the teachers who quit in their first five years. Failure. She’d gone into educational consulting, but apparently she wasn’t good at that either. Failure. Her passion was literature and writing, but she knew before she tried that she would never be a published author. Failure.

Davina put the cookies in the oven and set the timer. Snatching her wine glass, she took a generous sip, trying to swallow down the lump in her throat. She realized that the song had changed to “18,” another favourite but it was bringing her dangerously close to tears tonight so she skipped to the next track. “Girl Almighty” started and she clicked away within the first few notes. “Not today,” she grumbled to herself. The acoustic guitar opening of “Fool’s Gold” began and she hesitated to skip the song, waiting to hear Niall sing the first verse. 

She had spent the last several hours wanting to talk to him but resisting. She didn’t like feeling weak- not in front of anyone. She didn’t like being a burden. So, Davina swallowed it down, like she always did. As much as she wanted to hear his voice, see his smile when she teased him about something, or revel in the sound of his laugh, she wouldn’t call him back until she had a plan. Besides, _“He has far bigger things going on in his life than you,”_ she thought, bringing the wine glass to her lips again. 

She was mid-sip when she heard a loud knock on her door. She glanced at the time. It was only 6pm - too early for the Chinese that she’d ordered to be arriving. Everyone else she knew was busy or out of town. Maybe there was another package for her? God she could use one of those about now. She’d already stress-eaten all of the Twirl bars that Niall had kindly sent. 

Turning down “Fool’s Gold” just as Harry’s verse led into the chorus, she walked to the door with her wine glass in hand, hurriedly brushing flour off the front of her shirt as she went. Without looking out the peephole she swung the door open, only to be frozen in place, mouth open but unable to speak. 

“Ya know, if you wanted to hear my voice that badly, you only had to call.”

Her hand released its grip on her wine glass, sending it crashing to the floor.

“Niall…” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from Niall's "Fire Away," - which fits this chapter SO well!


End file.
